Hunter's Grace
by PyroQueenOfFire
Summary: Charis Winchester gives up her life as a nurse to help her brothers hunt. When Dean goes to Hell, Charis and Sam find their lives spinning out of control and when Dean returns, they find themselves faced with a war to fight and an angel on their shoulders
1. Lonely Candle

**Pup-of-Power: Hey, hey, this is a story co-written with PyroQueenofFire. None of us own Supernatural, nor are we making any money from this piece of fiction. It is on this site purely for your enjoyment, so that means let us know what you think! LOL. I hope you enjoy it, so without further adieu, apart from Pyro's note, we'll go on with the story.**

**PyroQueenOfFire: Hello, everyone! Pups and Pyro have decided to collab on something, so hopefully you will all love it like we do already. I want you guys to read, so no long note from me. =P On to the story!**

Chapter one: Lonely Candle…

Wind whistled through the cracks of the old church windows. Bathed in golden artificial light stood the Pulpit in all its glory; it didn't matter to the visitors that the marble had fatigue lines or the dyed cloths were faded. It was the majestic crucifix that held people's breaths. Gothic in design, the wooden statue of Jesus in his last moments sang a dark song of agony and suffering. The head was thrown back in the midst of a scream. His mouth was open in a silent cry for mercy and carved blood drops and tears were almost realistic in their design. The body of Christ was decrepit and harsh, bony ribs jutted out, emphasizing a horridly shrunken stomach that told a story of his capture and treatment from the Roman soldiers. The leg muscles of the statue strained with the force of gravity as they tried to offer some relief from the harsh iron nails in his ankles and wrists.

Charis couldn't tear her eyes away. Was this the suffering her brother had to go through in hell everyday? She sucked in a ragged breath as the tears she had become familiar with the past few months poured down her face once more. Every evening since Sam and she had arrived in the small town she had come to find solace in the broken house of God. Her Casper, a spirit companion who had always been there in her time of need, had been visiting less and less and the feelings of loneliness and abandonment snuck upon her like black mould on a white wall. Sam was of no help, he was too busy trying to find vengeance against Lilith and drowning his own sorrows.

Their combined grief was beginning to tear them apart. The life blood that held them together as a family was gone sucked down into the dark abyss and they both struggled against the black vacuum that was left in Dean's place. So she found herself in different Homes of the Lord, spending hours and hours on harsh, uncompromising wooden pews, more often then not on her knees, praying, begging, pleading for hope, for some kind of light to guide her towards finding her place in life once more, something to define her again.

The cold seemed so much _more _in the church, compared to others. It seemed through her dark jeans and Dean's heavy leather jacket. Charis ducked her head down, burying her nose in the soft leather, searching for the slowly fading scent of gun powder, salt and the earthly scent that was her brother. Around her neck was his golden charm that Sam had given to him when they were children. In her mind, Dean's dying screams echoed dully like a permanent soundtrack. Someone coughed in the back pews, bringing her attention back to the present.

To her left stood the prayer candles, dark and cold apart from one shining flame. When lighting it, she hoped that it was her guiding torch and she had stood there for undefined minutes waiting for it to show her the end of her sadness, her light at the end of the tunnel. But, like every night that had passed previously, it only offered her cold, hollow comfort.

"You know, when a person comes in at night and as often as you have, they carry a weighty burden." A soft gentle voice floated into her ear from her right, drawing her out of her thoughts. Beside her sat the church's priest, an old man in an ill fitting robe.

"You should be in a warm bed with a hot drink, resting your joints," she replied softly, tucking her short pixie style hair behind her ear.

"As much as I would like to be there, I think you need me more," he offered a roguish grin, his blue eyes sparkling. Charis laughed, reminded of her brother's womanizing rejoinders. A sharp sting in her eyes warned her of more tears arriving. "Now what has got you in such a fuss?"

"I lost my brother," she replied, shocked as the words flowed easily from her, "I lost my brother and now I can't find my path. When I was a child, I prayed and prayed for a hero and they sent me him, now…" she broke off and heaved a sigh, the words that came from her were heavy, "Now he's gone and I can't find my place, I can't find my hope or faith. I had a job with him, to save lives, and now when I try, I can't find the ease that I had with him and I'm losing more than I'm winning. The cost is getting higher and higher and I…" Charis couldn't continue, couldn't find the right words. He nodded sympathetically.

"I'm not going to give you the tripe about how 'god has a plan'; Goodness knows it doesn't help anybody. But I also think you are one of the rare people who are looking for answers, rather than reassurance." His knobby hand patted her own softly. "Unfortunately I don't have the answers, only advice and reassurance. So my words are this: not everything is set in stone, give it a little time, something will pop up when you least expect it, and to have faith, God never abandons those in need."

A whisper of warm wind blew across her shoulders and settled at her side as the elderly priest patted her shoulder. Casper was back. "Thank you," she smiled. "Now how about we get you out of this drafty room and into your warm bed with a cup of tea?" The priest gave a bright grin.

"Well, if you're offering to take care of a broken down, old man this night, the kettle is in the back room and I take three sugars with a strong tea, no cream." She laughed at his blatant extortion just as her phone rang.


	2. Tarzan and Jane

**PyroQueenOfFire: And here is chapter two. Feedback is love, and I really hope the story is enjoyed. After Pups gives her note you may read on…but only after. =P**

**Pups: Hey, Hey! Thanks Pyro for the note! Alrighty then, Standard disclaimer applies, its in chapter one if you need to read it once more and I hope you guys like it. **

The darkness had fallen sooner than Sam had thought it would—then again it didn't matter whether the rays of the sun were illuminating outside or not these days: everything was dark. The moment the claws of the hell hounds had sunk in and ripped apart Dean's flesh, sending his soul into Hell, all Sam could feel was sorrow. He'd taken to drinking and wallowing in his own self-loathing, assured that had he simply followed his gut, his brother would still be alive.

Sam could almost feel the friendly, bitter taste of beer on his tongue, savoring the taste as it dulled the pain. He'd known that he should have been a better brother to Charis, but he hadn't really found himself able to forgive himself. If he had simply taken up Ruby on her offer—Dean on board with her being a demon or not—Sam should have done _anything_ to save his brother…anything to save his brother from his fate.

"Sam?" Ruby asked him, watching him lost in thought, sitting on the motel bed.

Sam could only imagine the kind of untold torture that Dean was going through at that particular moment while Sam was engaged in sexual relations with demons. Nothing could save Dean from the torment that he was going through, and yet Sam was finding comfort in the demon that came back for him—that had proved to him could be trusted. All the darkness inside of him only Ruby could possibly understand—the demon blood that resided in Sam was less potent than that flowing through Ruby's veins, but still demon blood.

Just remembering his little secret made Sam's mouth go dry—he hadn't told anyone about Azazel dropping the demon blood into his mouth when he was six months old. He'd kept it to himself and when Ruby had offered to train him to use his powers, Sam had gladly accepted. He wanted to get back at Lilith for everything she had put them through—for everything she had taken from him and from his family.

"Sam." Ruby said, a little louder that time as she pulled her tank top on, standing still and looking at him, still in her underwear.

Sam ran his hand down his face and swallowed, wetting his mouth a little and trying to settle his thoughts. All he could see when he closed his eyes were different scenarios that Dean could be being tortured in: charred in the pit, skin sliced off, chained and screaming. Then he would think about how Charis was alone somewhere trying desperately to pray for Dean's soul. Faith…Sam wasn't sure exactly how much faith he had in God and angels anymore. He wanted to believe, but right now all he could do was follow Ruby and do as she told him.

"Sam!" Ruby said, forcefully this time.

Sam looked at her. "I'm sorry. Did you say something, Ruby?"

Ruby stepped up closer to him and reached out to stroke his hair. The touch made Sam smile as he felt his nerves calming a little. Ruby seemed to know just what to do to get him to feel better, and for a moment Sam found all of his bad thoughts pushed aside as he leaned in and kissed him swiftly. Her lips were soft and Sam had to reassure himself that this was Ruby—she was all that was in her new vessel.

"I'm going to order pizza, are you okay with that?" She asked him.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, sure. That's fine."

Honestly the only thing that Sam could think about right then as Ruby started to order the pizza was Dean—Dean loved pizza. Last time Sam and Dean had pizza the two of them had grossed Charis out a little with their barbaric eating habits, Dean eating a slice with one hand and driving with the other, the Impala purring as Dean increased the speed…the Impala. Sam couldn't believe that the most important thing in Dean's life now belonged to him—him the brother who couldn't amount to anything.

It wasn't the first time that Sam had felt weak, and Sam was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last. Sam was fairly confident, however that as soon as he and Ruby had tapped into the full potential of his demonic powers, he would no longer be as pathetic as he was right then. Sam was determined to become as powerful as he could, because only then could he exact his revenge on Lilith…and hopefully Charis would be able to understand when Sam explained everything to her.

"Sammy, you really need to relax." Ruby told him as she tossed her cell phone on the bed and sat on his lap.

Comfort or not, Sam wasn't actually _entirely_ on board with all of the human affection that Ruby gave him. As much as he got lost in the moment and swept up in his god awful manly urges, she was still in a vessel. Whether it was just her consciousness in the coma patient's body or not, Sam still felt a little awkward every time he touched he—no matter how slight. The soft hair, rosy lips, piercing eyes—none of those features actually belonged to Ruby the demon.

"I'm relaxed enough." Sam told her, hoisting her small frame up off of him and standing up to grab his shirt. "I should be researching a little more."

Sam grabbed a book or two, trying to keep himself from going for a beer as his thoughts again began to wander towards Dean, ignoring Ruby. She watched him as he furrowed his brow and read what he could, wishing she could convince him to slow down with the researching and work on his powers. She certainly thought it was more important for Sam to embrace the inner powers than it was to find Lilith—he wasn't ready to find her yet. Ruby shook her head at him a little and then got up to answer the door, surprised to see Dean standing there, and knowing that now was not the time to blow the cover.

"Okay, where is it?" Ruby asked him.

"Where is what?" Dean asked her.

Ruby gave him a look. "The pizza I ordered that apparently takes two guys to deliver."

"I don't think that I—" Dean began, but stopped when Sam saw him.

Sam had to blink a couple times to make sure that he was really seeing the man that was smiling a little at him. Dean greeted him and it sounded like him—the same strong, resonant voice—but he and Charis had buried him with Bobby. So when Dean came in for a hug, Sam went for him with a knife, Bobby and Ruby both telling him and the thing with Dean's face to stop. Bobby was desperately telling Sam that the man before him was really his brother, and Dean was yelling at him about some deal.

"What deal?" Sam asked him.

"Like you don't know!" Dean protested.

Sam gave Dean a look. "Dean, you're supposed to be…"

"I know—I look fantastic, don't I?" Dean asked him.

Sam found his words suddenly had no meaning, and he went for his brother, who gladly grabbed him back. He wrapped his arms around his brother and held him tightly, breathing in the dirt and sweat that came from him. Dean no longer smelled of gun powder and leather, but Sam knew that soon he would be back in the hunting fold—Dean never said no to a good hunt, a great lay or pie. Then it hit him: Charis. Sam pulled off of Dean and gave him a smile, looking deep into his brother's hazel eyes just to double-check that it was in fact Dean before he called his sister.

**

The priest gave a bright grin. "Well, if you're offering to take care of a broken down, old man this night, the kettle is in the back room and I take three sugars with a strong tea, no cream."

Charis laughed at his blatant extortion just as her phone rang. She looked away from the priest and she didn't have to think twice on it before she knew who it was—who else would possibly have Aqua's _Tarzan and Jane_ as her ringtone? She felt her cheeks flush a little when she realized she hadn't flipped the top open yet and the song was playing "I am Jane and I love to ride an elephant". Charis hastily flipped her phone open and put it to her ear, mouthing "I'm sorry" to the priest and the pulpit.

"Hi, Sammy." Charis told him. "What's going on?"

Sam took a deep breath. "You need to get back to the motel now, Charis…Dean's here."

Charis made a face. "That's not a funny joke, Sammy—what is going on."

Sam nodded. "It's not a joke, sis…Dean's really here in the motel with me right now, solid and wondering where the other part of the welcoming party is."


	3. What I've Done

**Pups: Ok, new chapter, standard disclaimer applies, its in chapter one. Hope you enjoy the emotional rollercoaster after Pyro has her say.**

**Pyro: Enjoy or die. I kid, I kid. =P**

Chapter Three: What I've done…

Footsteps pounded on the pavement as Charis raced towards the hotel, ignoring the chilling bite of the wind. Her heart thudded in time with her feet as the church behind her disappeared from view. A buzzing static hid her thoughts from herself as the shock cemented itself further in her mind. Dean was supposedly back from hell, his body no longer ash. Her brother was back, alive and waiting for her. It was hard to stop the two sentences swirling through the thick cloud of her mind. The hotel loomed ahead and her pace quickened.

She passed the seedy looking desk clerk without any thought and thundered up the stairs. Pushing other guests out of the way, she ignored their startled cries and angry curses left in her wake. Sam and her hotel room door had her stopping in her tracks. What if it was all a hoax, nothing but a cruel joke by the chick she knew Sam was sleeping with? Did she really want to set herself up for that? Her Casper settled comfortingly on her shoulder like a guardian angel's guiding hand. Slowly her converse covered feet started moving once more until she found herself a hairs breath away from the door. Should she knock? Her craving for a cigarette took her by surprise.

Charis turned abruptly and walked slowly back down the stairs and out to the car park. Gleaming like sin personified was Dean's impala. Making her way over to it, she pulled out her packet of smokes and leaned against the cool black metal. Her face flared briefly in the dark with golden light as she lit up. The first inhalation of smoke was like sinking down onto a well endowed talented jock that let go of all control. Sin combined with guilty pleasure slithered down her spine. Clouds of smoke drifted out from her barely parted lips as her hazel green eyes focused on the hotel's doorway.

If it were truly Dean up in the room, then he would know of her reaction. He would have followed her down, leaned against the car next to her and bullshitted around until she hit him and vented or cried. So she waited for someone to come down as she continued to puff on the paper stick. The door opened, revealing a shorter and stockier man than who she was expecting.

"Bobby," she called out softly as he walked in the opposite direction. The older man looked back then changed his direction, not pausing until he was in front of her. "Is it true?"

Bobby gave her a tender look before nodding gruffly. "Did all the usual tests myself, it's him." Charis let out a shaky breath as the familiar sting in her eyes made itself known. "Think you can go up there and put the poor guy out of his misery? He's been waiting for you. Pacing a damned hole in the carpet since Sam rang you."

"I was at the church," She replied shakily, "praying for something Iike this to happen. Now it has happened and I can't get the fucking guts to walk into that room and see my brother." Bitterly she threw the charred cigarette to the ground and stepped on it hard. "Sorry for swearing, Bobby. I just don't know what to do."

"No need to apologize to me, half-pint, living with Ellen at the Roadhouse was bound to have given you a spectacular vocabulary." She offered him a sheepish smile and shifted lightly against the Impala. The older man looked up at the building, focusing on a particular window. "Dean's getting pretty anxious up there, Charis, don't you think its time to go up there and sock him one for giving me a heart attack?" Charis let out a choked laugh and grabbed her friend's hand.

"Only if you walk behind me to stop me from making a bolt for it," she negotiated.

"You got yourself a deal, short stuff."

"OW! What the hell?"

Dean rubbed his jaw mournfully and turned his attention to the short and scary auburn female in front of him. Eyes identical to his glared fiercely, green sparks of emerald catching the light. In tight jeans, a tank and his overly large jacket, Charis was the picture of righteous fury. He gave her a cocky smile.

"Let me guess, you want to break in the new body?" her look of disgust was priceless.

"If you mean beat the crap out of you for the hell I've gone through these past few months with Sam going on drunken benders and fucking things up more than succeeding, then, yes, I want my pound of flesh."

"Where did this attitude come from, kitten?" he asked softly. Dean watched as tears began to fill her eyes.

"It appeared when I realized you weren't coming back, when Sam would disappear for days to only God knows where, leaving me to deal with whatever job we were on at the time. Damn it, Dean, I don't like to fight, I'm a nurse for goodness sake." He pulled her into his arms and let her sob into his shoulder. Sam had disappeared with Bobby and left the two to catch up. A strangled sob pulled its way from her throat as she let go of her emotions in his arms. Guiding them to the bed, he sat down and let her cuddle into his side.

"Sam said that you've been going to church a lot," Dean said after a while.

"Sam wasn't in the right frame of mind to be there for me," Charis replied quietly. "I needed to find solace somewhere, so why not the house of God?"

"You going to be all churchy now?" he joked.

"Only occasionally, I got my hero back, so I have to give my thanks to the dude upstairs." His sister's reply was more serious.

"Maybe while you're there, you can ask them why I was brought back while I go to a bar." A swift rap on the head was his reply as the T.V started to flicker.


	4. Static

**Pyro: Pyro here. This chapter will lead us along into the plotline a little further, I hope. Hope you enjoy it like Pups and I do! You may read after you read her note. =D**

**Pups: Hey hey, this chapter has the usual disclaimer. Hope you all leave reviews on both of our posts! Lol Catch you next time!**

"You going to be all churchy now?" Dean joked.

"Only occasionally, I got my hero back, so I have to give my thanks to the dude upstairs." Charis replied more seriously.

"Maybe while you're there, you can ask them why I was brought back while I go to a bar." Dean told her with a chuckle, Charis rapping him swiftly in the head as the TV began to flicker.

Dean's eyes darted to it first, as though he had an inkling of what was going to happen. The T.V stopped. Charis turned to Dean with a confused stare. He smiled at her reassuringly just as the radio began to fizzle and flip through stations until it played only static. To Dean, a high pitched tone began to echo through the room. Glass started crack and groan. The pain started to drive him to the floor and he grabbed Charis' wrist. Pulling her underneath his body protectively, he bore the brunt of shattered glass.

Charis did not perceive the high-pitched whistle as Dean did, but was thankful to her big brother for his protection as the glass sprayed out in several directions. The TV screen exploded and Charis realized as she felt the presence of her Casper, that words were being spoken. Familiar red liquid began to pour from her brother's ear. Worried, she helped him to a safe spot in the room and began checking him over. A voice started to speak, soft and commanding.

_Dean…we have work for you._ The voice told him, and though Dean could not perceive the message, Charis heard it and raised an eyebrow—work for him?

Charis helped carry Dean out of the motel room. Suddenly Dean stopped, tripping Charis over as she tried to pull him along. The shrill noise had stopped, and Dean reached up to wipe the blood off, sighed and then looked his sister in the eye. What the Hell had just happened, and why hadn't she been affected by it? Dean wiped the blood off of his fingers by running his hand down his pant legs and Charis found herself trying to piece it all together as she usually did. She, Dean and her Casper was in that room just now and as he spoke, glass shattered and Dean couldn't understand. What did that mean exactly?

"That's the second time that has happened to me." Dean told her.

Charis raised an eyebrow. "The _second_ time?"

Dean nodded. "When I climbed out of my grave and went to the gas station down the road to find some money and a pay phone and some answers…the whole place practically blew with static and strange radio signals and breaking glass."

Charis tried desperately to hold back the pain she was feeling as she took in every word that was escaping lips. Dean had just confessed to digging himself out of his grave, and Charis couldn't bear the thought of Dean having to do that. The cold, harsh dirt, the bleeding knuckles as he had to punch through the wood of the coffin—Charis knew that a hunter's life was hard, but crawling out of your own grave? She was surprised now more than ever that Dean was even back to his old self so quickly after something like that. How could he hold himself together so damn well?

"Charis? Kitten? What's wrong?" Dean asked her as he watched her lip quiver softly.

Charis shook her head. "We need answers."

As much as she wanted to, Charis couldn't find it in her to simply collapse in Dean's arms and cry. If Dean was holding it all together than she could too, so she started down the hallway, but stopped when Dean grasped his hand. Dean's hands were still warm, still firm, but no longer calloused or worn. It dawned on Charis that her brother was different—he had been given another chance with an entirely new body that though visibly the same, did not so the hard damage that it once had. No more battle scars, no more wear and tear, and no more stories hidden in the creases of his flesh.

"Has Sammy being doing anything lately that he shouldn't be doing?" Dean asked Charis softly.

Charis turned to look at her brother. "You mean regarding his psychic powers? Not that I am aware of. He has been seeing that girl that you probably saw him here with. They've been spending a lot of time together."

Dean nodded. "So Sammy's got himself a girlfriend?"

Charis shrugged. "It looks that way. Now are we going to spend this whole time reminiscing, or are we going to get our asses moving and find Bobby so that we can get some answers?"

Dean chuckled a little at his little sister's determination, and followed her outside so that they could call Bobby. He came to them as soon as he heard what was going on, and phoned in an old friend. Growing up in the Roadhouse, Charis was aware that every hunter had a list of contacts just in case something was over your head, or someone else's expertise, and Bobby's list was long. It wasn't that Bobby wasn't a qualified hunter, because Charis thought he was one of the best, but Bobby wasn't as into the channeling of spirits no matter how versed in spells he was—Pamela was his only option at this point since Dean had just been pulled out of Hell, and high pitched noises with exploding glass seemed to be following Dean around.

"You're taking us to a psychic?" Dean asked skeptically, Sam raising an eyebrow as well.

Bobby nodded. "She's the real deal, boys. Just trust me."

Dean shrugged a little as Bobby knocked on the door, a pale woman with black wavy hair, opening it. She smiled brightly at Bobby and they embraced, Pamela striking Charis as the very friendly type—which meant she'd get along nicely with Sam and Dean…Dean especially. Charis gave Pamela a warm smile as she turned to look them all over, Dean eyeing Pamela's chest as she stood before them in a black tank top with some low-rise jeans on.

"Dean Winchester." Pamela greeted him, instantly hitting on him. "Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual."

"If you say so." Dean told her with a smile.

Pamela smiled at him and then checked Sam out a little, inviting them in. Charis looked around at her home, a table in a parlor area in the room over, and lots of books. The place actually felt quite homey, but it seemed lonely too—a hunter's life was a lonely one, and Pamela's house had the feel of a lone wolf as well. Still, the place has a genuine vibe to it, and if Bobby trusted her, then Charis had faith in what Pamela could find out about how and why Dean was back.

"I ouija-ed my way through a dozen spirits, but no one seems to know who broke your boy out or why." Pamela explained—or of course then again maybe Pamela wouldn't find them anything.

"So, what's next?" Charis asked Pamela with a small swallow. "What else can we do besides use some Ouija board?"

"A séance is the best option we have—see if we can see who did the deed." Pamela replied. "I just want to get a sneak peek at it, like a crystal ball without the crystal."

"I'm game!" Dean exclaimed his eyes raking over her body as she started to prepare for the séance.

Charis watched as Pamela pulled out some candles and a tablecloth, setting them up on the table in the parlor room. The tablecloth had a symbol drawn upon it to help to invoke the spirits, and Charis looked over to Bobby who was watching her as Sam and Dean were, only less obviously checking out the attractive psychic. Pamela squatted down to search something in the cupboard, Dean peeking over at her tramp stamp, and smirking. She had one attractive hind side, and Dean couldn't help but nudge Sam, who checked out the tattoo as well.

"Who's Jesse?" Dean asked her.

"Well," She started, laughing a bit, "It wasn't forever."

"His loss…" Dean said.

"Might be your gain." She replied, and then she looked at Sam and smiled. "You're invited, Grumpy." Dean whipped around to face Sam, a fierce glare etched on his face.

"You are so not invited." Dean told Sam as Pamela headed over to set up the table.

Charis rolled her eyes a little but laughed at her brothers, and then sat around the table and Pamela began to light some candles. Charis swallowed as the uneasiness set in, making her wonder what it was that was trying to contact Dean—what it was that had pulled Dean out of Hell. Dean was alive—new flesh, old attitude, new direction, old focus—he was a live and though Charis was a little worried about what they were about to face, she felt oddly compelled to thank whatever it was for the return of her brother. Charis had her brother back, and no matter what this thing was that raised him up from Hell, Charis was obliged to thank it for giving her back part of her family.

"Alright. Take each other's hands. And I need to touch something our mystery monster touched." She said, and her hand went under the table to brush across Dean's crotch.

"Whoa!" Dean exclaimed. "Well, he didn't touch me there."

"My mistake." She told him with a laugh, and Dean took off his shirt to show her the hand mark he'd found on himself in the gas station. She couldn't stifle her gasp at the painfully pink raised hand print. Something powerful had dragged Dean from the Pit, Chris thought to herself, a cold shiver slinking up her spine. Shaking off her wigged feeling, Charis turned her attention back to Pamela.

"Okay," she told him, placing her hand on the hand mark on his shoulder, "I invoke, conjure, and command you…Appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you…Appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you…Appear unto me before this circle," The television behind Charis switched on. Jumping, she looked at Dean, who gave her a slightly freaked look. Pamela continued on relentlessly. "I invoke, conjure and command." She said, and the table started to shake, causing them all to open their eyes in shock. Bobby clenched Charis' hand tighter, knowing the contact was essential to the psychic. The brunette beauty steeled herself visibly as the whispering in the room grew in volume. "Castiel? No. Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy."

"Castiel?" Dean asked.

"So that's his name." Charis whispered to herself, feeling the presence of her Casper grow around them.

Pamela nodded. "It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back. I conjure and command you…Show me your face. I conjure and command you…Show me your face. I conjure and command you…Show me your face. I conjure and command you…Show me your…"

"Maybe we should stop." Bobby said as the table started to shake more and more.

"I almost got it." She told them. "I command you…Show me your face. Show me your face now! Aaah!"

Pamela started screaming as the pain in her eyes began to become searing, Charis broke from the circle and rushed over to her side. Pamela screamed one more time, her eyes opening in agony. Charis let out a startled cry. The brunette's eyes burned a bright light, blood poured from the emptying sockets. An unseen force had burned out her eyes, and she collapsed into Charis' arms. It was the second time that day that Charis had felt not completely at ease even with her Casper around, and that thought unsettled her a little bit. She'd always felt so warm and calm when she knew her Casper was there, watching over her, but these last two times she'd felt him, horrible things had happened. Sam settled down at her side, eyeing the two in concern. Helpless, she stared up at him before common sense kicked in.

"Call 911." Charis told Sam, and he rushed to the phone.

"I can't see. I can't see. Oh, God, no." Pamela cried, repeating herself over and over in despair as Dean and Bobby stood over the two powerlessly.


	5. Demons and Angels, Oh My

**Pups: Another chapter pumped out, a little longer than our others, but our neighbourhood friendly angel shows up here *fangirlsigh* oh and standard disclaimer applies. Here's to you pyro!**

**Pyro: Anyone else seriously in need of the angel fix? *raises hand* I'm thriving for it. So if you want it…you have to read more…;)**

Chapter five: Demons and Angels…Oh My…

Charis and Dean sat at the small table with tired sighs. The whole situation had them both tied up in knots with their guilt. What type of demon had that kind of power? Lilith was a possibility, but Pamela ruled that one out when she said the name Castiel. Dean was so sure it was a demon. But Charis wasn't so sure. After all, there were so many other things that had that kind of power, a trickster or a djin even. But neither had the ability to deliver her brother from hell. And poor Pam, her eyes had been burned from her skull all because she tried to help them out.

Tugging at her denim jacket and white tee, Charis slouched in her uncomfortable metal chair. Noticing that neither she nor Dean was talking, the attractive waitress sauntered up to her brother coyly, her too small jeans and dark grey singlet emphasizing her barely there attributes. With an unconscious cursory glance, he gave her a smile and ordered them both a slice of cherry pie.

"Be up in a jiff," she replied, smiling. Charis nodded to her in thanks, playing with the frayed edges of a hole in the thigh of her light blue jeans. Sam walked in, phone up to his ear as he listened to the report on the state of Pamela. Both Charis and Dean looked up at him expectantly as he sat down, eager to hear news of her condition.

"What did Bobby say?" Dean asked impatiently. Impatiently, she perked up, wanting the news quickly.

"Well, Pam's stable, and out of ICU…"

"And blind because of us," continued Charis bitterly. Words could not describe how guilty she felt for helping cause the other woman such agony.

"And we still have no idea what we are dealing with," Sam sighed heavily.

"Well, that's not entirely true," Dean put in, leaving forward.

"No?" Sam replied sarcastically.

"We got a name, Castiel, or whatever. With the right mumbo-jumbo, we could summon him, bring him right to us."

Sam stared at him incredulously. "You're crazy, absolutely not." However, Charis sided with Dean. They had just tried the round about way and it brought nothing but pain to those they got involved. Although against fighting something unknown, especially half cocked, it was time for them to change plan. Perhaps they would finally find the answers Dean had been seeking, the answer they _all_ had been seeking.

"We work the guy over, I mean, after what he did?" The older brother said fiercely, full of righteous anger. Sam continued to look at him like he did not recognize the man in front of him. The silent war between them both had Charis fidgeting quietly. There was nothing more she despised than when her two brothers fought.

"Pamela took a peek at this guy, and her eyes burned out of her skull, and you want to have a face to face? With Charis there, too?!" Looking down, Dean's face reflected a wince of guilt before stealing behind his usual mask of stoicism and a clenched and cocky jaw.

"You got a better idea?" he challenged.

Sam leaned forward, not backing down. "Yeah, as a matter of fact I do, I followed some demons into to town, Right?"

Charis and Dean looked at him doubtfully. "Okay…" Charis piped up, curious to see where Sam was going. Since Dean went to hell and left the two alone in the world, Charis found her last brother loath to reveal details about jobs until right before he was ready to execute them.

"So we go find them," he continued on eagerly, so sure his course of action was more than correct. The waitress came back over with their pie then plunked herself down on the only available seat. Quietly, she stared at them, all traces of coyness and flirtation gone. Charis hated how she stared at them, so sure of herself, like she knew something they didn't.

"What? Are you angling for a tip?" Dean asked slightly snottily.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she replied mockingly, "I thought you were looking for us." Like dye in liquid, her eyes bled black. The three Winchesters sucked in a breath of surprise. Charis pushed her chair out, readying herself for the action she was sure would ensue. One of the customers, a fat, mangy trucker got up from his chair and walked to the front door, sliding the lock and turning the close sign. Black eyes stared at them blankly, behind the counter stood the cook, another demon. Charis swallowed thickly, well aware of how screwed they were should the demons decide to attack. The waitress smiled sinisterly.

"Dean," she said breathily, "To hell and back, aren't you a lucky duck?" Dean glared before putting on his battle face.

"Yeah, that's me."

"So, you get to just stroll right out of the pit, huh?" the woman leaned in close, getting right into his personal space. "Tell me, what makes you so special?"

He let out a cock sure laugh, smirking at Sam and Charis, both ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. "Well, honey, I like to think it's because of my perky nipples." Charis couldn't help but let out a snicker, now sure her brother was well and truly back. She stared back, all signs of flirtation and mocking disappeared. Dean sighed and straightened before replying truthfully. "I don't know, wasn't my doing, I don't know who pulled me out."

"Right," she drawled in disbelief. "You don't know."

"That's right, I don't."

"Lying is a sin, you know," she returned with a smirk.

"Well, it's good for me that I ain't lying." The demons around them shifted restlessly. The three straightened and Sam slowly reached for the gun behind his back. His movements caught the lead demon's eye and she glanced at him, unflinching from the pure hate wafting back towards her. Dean leaned forward, drawing her attention back to him. "But I'd like to find out, so, if you wouldn't mind enlightening me, Flo…"

"Mind your tongue with me boy," she sneered. "I'll drag you back to hell myself."

"Is that before or after I kick your ass?" Charis threatened as Sam moved to attack her. Dean held up a hand, stopping them both before turning back to the demon in the waitress's body.

"No, you won't," he said confidently.

"No?"

"No," he returned, "Because if you were, you would have done it already. Fact is, princess, you don't know who cut me loose, and you're as spooked as we are and you're looking for answers." Charis stared the woman down as Dean continued talking. "Well, maybe it was some turbo charged sprit, hmm?" Dean turned back to Charis and Sam with a smirk. "Or uh… Godzilla, or some big bad boss demon, but I'm guessing at your pay grade that they don't tell you squat, because, whoever it was, they want me out, and they're a lot stronger than you. So," he leaned back in his chair, still smirking, "Go ahead, send me back, but don't come crying to me when they show up on your front doorstep with some Vaseline and a fire hose." The demon waitress stared back at him with helpless hatred.

"I'm going to reach down your throat and rip out your lungs," she hissed threateningly. Dean confidently leaned forward, turning the tables back onto her. Suddenly, he slapped her across the face. Charis jumped and waited apprehensively for their reaction. Nothing, she remained in her seat, as the did the other demons. Dean slapped her again without any repercussion.

"That's what I thought," he sniffed confidently before standing up. Sam and Charis jumped up with him. "Come on, Charis, Sammy." They moved past her, but paused shortly, waiting for Dean to accompany them. Reaching into his coat pocket, the eldest Winchester pulled out his wallet and counted out a couple of bills. Throwing it down, he sneered at the woman, who stared at the wall headfast. "For the pie." They walked out of the restaurant, well aware of the glares boring into their backs.

**

They walked quickly from the diner, their expressions of false bravado disappearing as they hurried from the building. Charis didn't even bother to hide her smoking as pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lit one up. Sam stared at her, shocked. With trembling hands she shook her hand in dismissal. Watching them closely was Dean, making sure they didn't freak before he did.

"Holy crap that was close!" he laughed in astonishment. Sam frowned at him.

"Dude, we're not just going to leave 'em in there are we, Dean?" The elder brother gave him an incredulous look.

"Uh, yeah, Sammy, in case you've forgotten how to count since I left, there were three of them in there, probably more and we've only got one knife between us."

"Dean's right, Sam," Charis said quietly, inhaling the cigarette slowly. "With their demon strength, they outnumber us pretty badly."

"I've been killing a lot more demons than that lately," Sam sneered.

"When, Sam?" Charis interrupted Dean before he could say anything. "We've only taken out a handful since Dean's gone. Unless you've been out hunting without me while I've been sleeping instead of smutting around with your new girlfriend." Sam shot her a nasty glare.

"Well, not anymore," Dean grinned, throwing an arm around them both. "The smarter brother's back in town."

"Dean," Sam replied impatiently. "We gotta take 'em, they're dangerous!"

"Dude, they're scared, scared of whatever had the juice to yank me out. We're dealing with a bad mofo here, one job at a time," he said soothing, yanking out the cigarette dangling from Charis' mouth and throwing it on the ground. "Those things will kill you, half-pint, quit it."

They're scared, scared of whatever had the juice to yank me out. We're dealing with a bad mofo here, one job at a time.

**

Charis refused to let Dean out of her sight and range of touch. Since there were only two beds in the ratty hotel, she happily volunteered to share. The hotel management had managed to replace the windows while they were out during the day, so they didn't have to worry about evening chill. It hadn't truly sunk in that he was really there. Dean saw right through her cavalier attitude and was more than happy to indulge her. To be honest, it hadn't sunk into him that he was there either.

He expected at any moment for it all to disappear and he reappear back into the pit, screaming in agony. They settled on the bed, books open in front of them as they searched for any mention of Castiel in demon lore. Sam was sat at the table, his apple laptop open and several internet pages open. Hours passed as they searched and searched, finding no mention of the elusive name. Slowly, Charis fell asleep, her head resting on Dean's shoulder and the strange handprint. Lulled by the sense of security and warmth, he soon followed, not noticing Sam slipping out of the door soon after.

Dean and Charis cuddled against one another as they slept; reassured by the sense of security they felt from each other. Their books had fallen onto their laps, open somewhere in the middle. It was calm, peaceful even, when the TV flickered on. Static and white noise woke Dean. Sitting up, he rubbed his eye, looking around in sleepy confusion. Recognition flooded through him and he reached over Charis for his shotgun. Slowly, he slipped out of her grasp and stood up, cocking his gun and looked around, not seeing Sam anywhere.

"Now where are you?" he whispered, shifting the gun to the ready. He walked towards the door just as the high pitched noise picked up. He rushed back to Charis, waking her up with his urgency. Crying out in agony, he pushed his little sister off the bed and underneath him like he had done previously. The replaced windows shattered, making Charis yell in shock. He pushed her towards the door as he heard something crack. Looking up, the mirror above the bed began to shatter. Eyes widening in alarm, he crawled as fast as he could behind his sister, barely getting out of the way as the large piece of glass shattered to the floor.

Louder and louder the noise grew, his ears starting to pop painfully. He started to scream, the agony reminiscent to his time in hell. Strangely enough, Charis seemed unaffected by the noise, her eyes wide and her head cocked to the side like she was listening to something powerful. Dean couldn't concentrate anymore as black dots danced in front of his eyes and blood began to pour from his ears. Bobby burst through the door suddenly and the noise stopped.

"Dean! Charis! Dean?! Stay awake, son!"

**

Charis carefully wiped drying blood from Dean's ears and neck from the back seat as Bobby drove into the night. She couldn't understand why she heard a voice instead of the painful noise that Dean was subject to. Stifling a yawn behind her hand, she finished cleaning her brother up and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

"Get some sleep, Char," He said quietly. "We've got a bit of a drive ahead."

"What about Sammy?" she questioned tiredly, settling into the back seat with Dean's leather jacket.

"Don't worry, babe, I'll call him."

"M-Kay," she replied, her eye lids sliding heavily over her eyes.

"How you doing, kid?" Charis heard Bobby ask Dean after a while.

"Aside from the church bells ringing in my head, peachy," he said darkly, digging into his pocket for his phone. He dialed a number quickly and it wasn't long before the other line picked up. "What are you doing? ... In my car? ...Well, uh, Bobby's back, we're going to grab a beer…" Charis perked up a bit, curious to why Dean was lying to Sam. "…Done, yeah, I'll catch you later…" Dean closed the phone and stared at it for a moment.

"Why the hell didn't you tell him," Bobby asked, confused.

"Cause all he'll do is try and stop us. We need to confront that thing before it turns me deaf." Charis leaned forward.

"What are we doing?"

"You know how I suggested we face this thing full frontal?" she nodded. "Well, Bobby knows some major summoning symbols." She let out a silent acknowledgment and leaned back to the seat. "Its time we faced it."

"You can't be serious," Bobby said incredulously.

"As a heart attack, its high noon, baby."

"Well, we don't know what it is. It could be a demon, it could be anything," shock and horror laced Bobby's tone.

"That's why we gotta be ready for anything," Dean said seriously, pulling out Ruby's blade. "We got the big time magic knife and you got an arsenal in the trunk."

"This is a bad idea," Bobby warned. Charis sat back in her seat, her eyes wide in shock. No longer did she feel tired, in fact, adrenalin pumped through her veins like fire.

"Yeah, I couldn't agree more, but what other choice do we have?"

"We could choose life, especially for your sister."

"Where Dean goes, I go," Charis replied stubbornly. "I just got him back; I'm not letting him out of my sight."

"Bobby, whatever this is, whatever it wants, it's after me, not Charis, that much we know, right? She knows what to do if this thing goes south. I got no place to hide, I can either get caught with my pants down again, or we can make our stand."

"Dean, we could really use Sam for this," Bobby sighed, giving in.

"Naw," Dean smiled sadly, "He's better off where he is."

**

Charis spray painted symbols on the wall with silver paint with Bobby and Dean. In the two hours they were in the broken down barn they had managed to cover the walls and floor with various religious symbols and Devil's Traps, all designed to protect them and bind their summon-ee. Dean finished his last talisman and walked over to the table covered in weapons. Standing up, Charis stretched and arched her back, working out the kinks before wandering over to Dean and Bobby.

"That's one hell of an art project you have here, Bobby," she whistled approvingly. "I kinda dig it."

"Traps and talismans from every faith on the globe," he said proudly. "How are you going?" he asked as she rifled through the weapons before pulling out a pistol.

"Stakes, iron, silver, salt, knife, I mean, we're pretty much set to catch and kill anything I've ever heard of," Dean said, leaning over Charis' shoulder.

"This is still a bad idea," Bobby warned before gathering the tools to summon whatever was haunting Dean.

"Yeah, I heard you the first ten times, Bobby," Dean sighed, "What do you say we ring the dinner bell?"

Bobby walked over to the chalk drawn circle and set fire to the goblet before beginning chanting. "Matéus spiritus obscuré..."

**

It was a little over an hour later and still they waited. Bobby whistled lightly, his fingers stroking the shotgun in his lap while he stared at Dean. Idly, the eldest Winchester flipped Ruby's knife in a twirling pattern as Charis paced in front of him, smoking the last cigarette from her packet.

"Are you ever going to quit that annoying habit? You smell like a chimney sweep," Dean said suddenly, causing the other two to jump in shock. "Are you sure you did the ritual right, Bobby?" the older man gave him a look. "Sorry, touchy, touchy, huh?" Charis gave him a look and continued to pace. A feeling of foreboding and the reassuring sense of her Casper coming closer warred in her body. Something was coming.

An ice cold wind pushed past them, blowing harder and harder. The rickety tin roof banged furiously against the wooden frame. Dean and Bobby stood up, all joking aside. Charis was pushed protectively behind her brother as he and his other companion stared at the roof.

"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind," Dean said darkly, picking up a shotgun and cocking it.

The light bulbs above them glowed brightly before exploding, sending sparks and glass raining down on their heads. Charis let out a startled cry as the hot glass slipped down the neck of her shirt. Wiggling a bit, she got the glass out and pressed against her brother's back. The barn doors began to groan and the wooden bar across them shattered like twigs. With an invisible force, the doors opened revealing a single man.

Because of the lights flaring, Charis couldn't get a clear picture of the man's face. All she could see was a tan trench coat and a dark suit and white shirt. With the standard demons, she always had a feeling of foreboding. However, this time there was no such feeling. In fact, Charis felt calm, reassured and the thing that disturbed her was the familiarity she was experiencing. He walked in calmly, like he owned the place. Immediately, Dean and Bobby began firing. The man didn't flinch; he continued his path with unwavering finality. The traps, the talismans, the symbols, nothing stopped the man. Dean walked backwards to the table, palming Ruby's blade on the sligh before meeting the stranger, pressing him into the light.

Charis let out a gasp, capturing the man's attention. He was slightly shorter than Dean, but much more handsome. Messily combed black hair framed a square rugged face. Intense blue eyes stared out from long and thick lashes, his nose was slightly large and his lips were thick and looked soft. A feeling of pure comfort and safety surrounded her as his gaze seemed to pierce her very soul.

"Who are you?" Dean demanded, angry at the way the man seemed to stare at his baby sister. Immediately the man swung his gaze to him, none of the warmth that Charis received in his eyes.

"I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition," he announce in a low husky voice. Charis was captivated by him.

"Yeah, thanks for that," Dean said sarcastically, before plunging Ruby's knife into his chest before stepping back.

"Dean!" Charis cried out in alarm.

However, the blade had no effect on him. Raising a lush brow, the stranger pulled out the knife and dropped it to the floor carelessly. Bobby, who had remained quietly behind the man, grabbed a crow bar and swung it at the back of his head. With a fierce look, he turned and snatched at the bar, holding it tight. Whispers echoed through the room as he placed two long fingers on Bobby's forehead. Charis watched in horror as her father figure dropped to the floor.

"We need to talk. Alone," The man announce, turning back to Charis and Dean.

**  
Charis checked Bobby's vitals while Dean hovered over her protectively. Throwing her brother an impatient look, she timed the older man's vitals against her watch. Flipping through a book casually, their strange visitor passed the time idly.

"Your friend is alive," he announced lightly. Dean frowned and turned to face him.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"He's the presence I've been telling you about for the past two years, Dean," Charis said bitterly, trying to wake Bobby.

"Whoa, he's your Casper?" Dean replied incredulously pointing at the patient man.

"Castiel, actually," The man introduced lowly.

"Yeah, figured that much out, I mean what are you? Cause if you've been following my baby sister around to get your jolly's off…" Dean interrupted fiercely.

"I am an angel of the Lord," Castiel informed him. "I have been protecting your sister and now am on an additional mission."

Dean moved up close to him. "…Bullshit. There's no such thing."

Castiel gave him an aggrieved stare. "This is your problem, Dean, you have no faith."

Lightening crackled in the barn, and a surge of power revealed enormous shadows of wings. Charis stared at him in shock, moving over to Dean and slipping her hand into his. Words could not describe her awe as the winged shadows flickered with the light show. And just as quickly as it started, the storm stopped, Castiel's wings folded back into him. Dean snorted, sneakily squeezing his sister's hand reassuringly before moving forward.

"Some angel you are," Dean attacked verbally. "You burned that poor woman's eyes out." Castiel sighed regretfully.

"I warned her not to spy on my true form, it can be…overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice, but you already knew that."

"In the hotel," Charis spoke up, "That voice, it was you, wasn't it?"

"You mean the gas station and the motel?" Dean asked incredulously. "That was you talking?" the angel nodded. "Buddy, next time lower the volume."

"It was my mistake. Certain people, special people, like your sister, can perceive my true visage, I thought you would be one of them, clearly I was wrong." Dean pulled a face.

"And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?" Charis hit Dean across the chest for his impudence as Castiel looked down at his form, touching the clothes lightly.

"This…this is a vessel," he announce calmly. Dean stared at him in horror.

"You're possessing some poor bastard?" Charis silently agreed with Dean's outrage.

"He is a devout man," the angel shrugged, "He actually prayed for this."

Dean's patience wore thin. "Look, pal, I'm not buying what you're selling, and so who are you, really?"

"I told you."

"_Right_, and why would an angel rescue me from hell?" Dean snorted.

"Good things do happen, Dean," Castiel sighed.

"Not in my experience," Dean shot him down stubbornly.

"What's the matter?" Castiel moved close in an almost child-like curiosity. "You don't think you deserve to be saved," he announced in wonder. Gobsmacked, Dean stared at him before deciding to ignore the other's announcement.

"Why did you do it?"

"Because God commanded it," Castiel replied simply. Charis watched as Dean's jaw tightened with his temper and skepticism. Castiel observed his movements and anticipated his next question. "Because we have work for you."

Dean and Charis stared at him, confused.


	6. Celestial Hugs

**Pyro: New chapter! Yay! Without Pups, this part wouldn't even be this awesome…cause she brings the awesome to it. After reading Pups' note you may read…read before reading her note and I'll have to sick Eric on you. You think I'm kidding and I'm not. =P**

**Pups: Boy am I glad I live all the way over here *points to a spot on the floor* LOL. The chapters are getting longer and longer, there is just simply too much going on to keep it short. Anywho, Standard Disclaimer applies, its in chapter one. Enjoy honeys!**

Dean and Charis stood there, contemplating the actuality of having an angel in their presence. Without waiting for further questions, Castiel disappeared. Charis struggled to control her feeling of shock; was it really possible that an Angel of the Lord was her neighborhood friendly Casper. If it was true, then, so be it. There was nothing she could really do. But despite the feeling of unease that she had been experiencing the last two times Casper…no, Castiel, had been around her, she believed…she had faith. And it was abundantly obvious she had more than Dean, who had been the one brought back up from hell by the winged being. But, if she learned anything from Dean and Sam about being a Hunter, it was best to be safe rather than dead and she was going to treat the rest of Castiel's visits with the utmost caution.

Dropping down next to Bobby, she checked his vitals and instinctual reactions. The older hunter stirred at her treatment, offering her a sense of comfort. It seemed that he would be find, but she still wanted to take him to a hospital, just to make sure that Castiel didn't do any lasting damage. Dean knelt next to her, his voice soft.

"How's Bobby?"

Charis smiled reassuringly. "I'm confident that he'll be fine, but I want to get him checked out by a doctor, just in case."

"I trust your judgment, Kitten. Give me a hand to get him to the car?"

She nodded. "Of course." Taking his legs, Charis helped her brother, glad for his insistence at keeping up her physical fitness. Bobby's dead weight was nothing to smirk at. Getting into the pick up's back seat with Bobby, she supported him with her own form as Dean got into the drivers side and started the car up. Looking through the rear view mirror, he waited until she gave him a smile before driving down the bumpy driveway.

Charis supported the older hunter's neck until they got to the smooth road. Tapping the whiskered cheek lightly with her cold hand, she was pleased to see him wake up, at least until he gave a chesty cough.

"What the hell happened?" Bobby asked gruffly, "And where's the boy?"

"Sammy hasn't met up with us yet, honey. And what happened was, we did a ritual, summoned an angel, said angel knocked you out and we found out that God really _does_ have a plan for Dean." Said hunter threw her an angry glare. "I want you to see a doctor about that cough, though, Bobby. It doesn't sound good to me."

"I ain't going to see no damned doctor," he bitched, sitting up in the seat. "Get Sam to meet us at my place." Charis nodded and sent her other brother a text, quickly explaining what had gone done and that she wanted him to not talk to anyone until she explained what happened to him herself. She needed him to be on her side about the Angels so they could bully Dean to believing. As far as she was concerned, she owed the men upstairs the largest debt in the world. Even with their ulterior motives, they brought her brother back to her arms, and as far as she was concerned, that made them alright.

It wasn't long until they made it to Bobby's house, or, in Charis' mind, the Batcave. The journey had been quiet, Dean snapping at the both of them when they tried to bring up what had happened. It was obviously still sinking in with him. Walking up the rickety stairs, Charis could barely suppress the yawns. It had been an eventful evening, and she was exhausted. Before she could see Bobby to his bedroom, Dean steered her towards her own, the spare room, with a soft smile. Nodding in good night, she crashed on the bed, not even bothering to take off her shoes as her eyes closed finally and refused to open.

She wasn't aware when Sam arrived. Nor when he walked into the room and pulled off her shoes. With careful and gentle hands, he tucked her under the covers and crashed on top of the blankets beside her. He wanted to ask her questions about what happened; there was so many things he wanted to know. However, he knew that it could wait until the both of them got some sleep, and so he curled up a little and smiled softly at his baby sister as she slept peacefully beside him.

When he woke up, Sam stirred slowly so he wouldn't rouse Charis from her slumber, but when he heard the rustling in the room, he knew she was up. He smiled a little and opened his eyes, wiping the sleep from them and yawning, Charis laughing a little at the sight of him as she'd just pulled her shirt on in a desperate attempt to be up and ready for anything. Charis nestled herself onto the foot of the bed as Sam sat up, and she scrunched up her nose in a face at her brother's morning breath. Sam knew exactly what kind of comment was about to come next, so he beat her to the punch.

"What happened last night?" Sam asked her.

Charis sighed. "Dean and Bobby summoned Castiel."

Sam's widened. "What?!"

Charis gave him a look. "We need to know, Sammy."

Sam sighed and nodded, getting up to brush his teeth as Charis closed her eyes for a moment to figure out what it was she wanted to say next. She knew that out of all of the hunters she was with right that moment, that Sam was the only one who was going to have this conversation with her. Charis wanted to discuss Castiel with Sam, because as far as faith was concerned, she and Sam were really the only two who had any. Bobby would undoubtedly believe, but it was more because he was very much an 'innocent until proven guilty' kind of man…especially seeing as how Castiel had dragged Dean out of Hell—Bobby shared in that appreciation of him.

"Castiel said he was an angel of the lord and that God had work for Dean to do." Charis explained, leaning on the doorframe. "And yes I know that it's a lot to take in and accept but…you know that presence I'm always talking about?"

Sam spit out some of the toothpaste. "Yeah…what about your Casper?"

Charis swallowed. "Well his name is Castiel…and he dragged Dean out of Hell. I mean I know that his true visage burned Pam's eyes out, but…angels, Sammy."

Sam gave a little smile as he took in the entirety of what Charis was saying to him as she rambled off exactly what had happened with Castiel—the showing of his wings and everything. Sam peered over at her as she found herself talking about how cautious she felt, but how safe she felt in his presence, and Sam nodded. He understood that feeling rather well—as much as he trusted and relied on Ruby, he still sometimes found himself questioning everything she told him to do. Castiel was different though…he was an angel, and he'd rescued Dean from Hell.

"Well…let's go and see what kind of information Bobby and Dean have dug up." Sam told Charis, who nodded and led the way, both of them heading out into the kitchen as Dean told Bobby that Castiel couldn't be an angel. "Well, then tell me what else it could have been?"

Dean ran his hand down his face. "Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel."

Charis couldn't help but giggle a little at the thought of being groped by an angel, but quickly stopped when Dean sent a look her way. He was not in the least bit happy to discover that this Castiel had been following his sister around for the last two years, and to have Charis think that sentence was funny at all with the words 'grope' and 'angel' in it, made him a little more upset than he'd been. Dean knew that Charis meant well, and was trying to lighten the mood, but he was having a really hard time believing that this Castiel guy was really an angel. If he was a demon…then Dean was really going to need to make sure his sister had the kind of protection from him that she needed.

"Well, okay, look, Dean. Why do you think Castiel would lie to you about it?" Charis asked him, wanting to know where Dean stood on the subject exactly.

"Maybe he's some kind of demon. Demons lie." Dean replied.

"Charis explained what happened and I'm not buying that, Dean. A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps…and Ruby's knife? Dean, Lilith is scared of that thing." Sam pointed out.

Dean gave him a look. "Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one…at some point…ever?"

Sam chuckled a little. "Yeah. You just did, Dean."

Charis understood her brother's lack of faith, and though cautious, Charis found herself desperately wanting to believe that Castiel was telling the truth. Sans these last couple encounters with him, Charis had never had a reason to doubt her Casper. When she was upset or in need, her Casper had always been there for her and made her feel peaceful and comforted. Maybe if she could just talk to him and figure out her own feelings and thoughts on the matter, she would be more able to deal with the current situation at hand—being a hunter meant she'd have to, to a certain degree, trust her own gut instincts.

"I'm trying to come up with a theory here. Okay? Work with me." Dean told Sam, agitation in his voice.

Sam nodded. "Dean, we _have_ a theory."

"Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please." Dean said irritably.

"What if we tried to talk to him again? All the signs point to him not being a demon, and though we can't believe he's an angel just because he says he is, what if he is? I mean what if he really descended from Heaven and pulled you out of Hell, Dean? Can you please try to leave that open as an option?" Charis pleaded.

"Are you three chuckleheads going to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?" Bobby asked before Dean could respond to his sister's pleading face. "I got stacks of lore…biblical, pre-biblical. Some of it is in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit."

Charis found herself swallowing a little as she tried to figure out what that feeling was that was swirling around in her gut. Every ounce of her wanted to believe now that Castiel was truly who he said he was—pure, comforting, warm and Holy. At her all time lows and when she needed him most, Castiel had always been around her to let her know she was safe and cared for. If he had also given her brother back to her, then who was she to not have ultimate faith in him? But that was just it…_if_ he had given her brother back to her.

"What else?" Dean asked.

"What else, what?" Bobby replied perplexed.

"What else could do it?" Dean asked Bobby, wanting to believe more than anything that Castiel was lying to him.

"Airlift your ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell…nothing." Bobby replied.

Charis nodded slowly and took the book from Bobby that he had been holding, looking at the picture of the angel with his hand on the shoulder of a soul in Hell. The angel looked so beautiful and determined, and it made Charis smile a little at how her prayers had been answered—her brother had been returned to her. From the look on Sam's face, he was rather ecstatic to know that angels were on their side as well, and Charis wished Castiel knew just how grateful she was to him for everything he had done. She knew it would take convincing Dean a little more, and just in case, she wanted to do a little more research…just to make sure her faith was rightfully placed.

"Dean, this is good news!" Sam exclaimed.

Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother. "How?"

"Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap." Sam told him with a smile on his face. "I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?

"Okay. Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's a god?" Dean asked slowly.

"At this point, Vegas money's on 'yeah'." Bobby replied with a nodded of his head.

Charis looked up as Dean expressed his doubt on the subject, and their eyes met. Dean knew that Charis and Sam had always had a bit of faith, and the look in her eyes was making him feel a little weak and guilty. The entire four months that he had been gone, Charis had been praying for him—asking God and the angels for guidance. Could he really have been saved by an angel of the Lord? Could God really exist? Dean didn't know why it was so easy for Sam, and becoming so easy for Charis…when it was so damn hard for him to believe in the good that could sometimes come out of life.

"Okay, Dean, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof." Sam told him.

"Proof?" Dean asked.

Charis nodded. "Sammy's right, Dean. Everything in these texts that Bobby is looking through, and the display Castiel gave us last night…it all points to his honesty."

"Proof that there's a god out there that actually gives a crap about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it." Dean said with a shake of his head.

Charis frowned a little, joined in by Sam who asked his brother why he was so set against not believing in what was happening. Dean had always been the kind of man who needed hard proof and here it was right in front of him…and he wasn't taking it? Sam couldn't understand the way Charis could about Dean's inability to just take the situation on faith. Sam had to believe that there were good things out there as well as bad—had to believe that there were angels as well as demons.

"Why me?" Dean asked. "If there is a god out there, why would he give a crap about me?"

"Dean…" Charis tried lovingly.

"I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the…for the stealing and the…the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy." Dean protested.

Sam nodded. "Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the Man upstairs."

Dean gave his brother a look. "Well, that creeps me out. I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties…much less by…God."

Charis laughed. "Well, too bad because I think He wants you to strap on your party hat."

Dean sighed as Sam nodded vigorously, agreeing with his sister completely and he looked to Bobby for support. Bobby just held his hands up in the air because he wanted to believe in angels too, and Dean looked back to Charis. Her pleading eyes were too much for him to handle, so he nodded slowly and then looked back to Bobby. The old hunter smiled at him and Dean looked him in the eye, knowing he could at least get some more research out of caving.

"All right. What do we know about angels?" Dean asked.

"Start reading." Bobby replied as he put a stack of books into Dean's arms.

Dean made a face as Charis laughed again and then looked at Sam. "You're gonna get me some pie!"

****

Charis tapped her fingers on the page of a text on angels absent-mindedly, her mind not on the research at all anymore. Sam had run off to get Dean his precious pie, and Charis couldn't stop thinking about Castiel. It wasn't just his beautiful, honest eyes or his confident demeanor in his vessel—it was the fact that he'd given her the one thing she'd been praying about. Castiel had gone into Hell, found Dean, and pulled him out to return him to his family, and to the hunting fold. She knew she should be interested in what it was that God wanted Dean to do, but she also needed to know some things.

Rising, Charis absently waved her hand at Dean and Bobby. "I'll be back."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"

"I just need some air." Charis replied.

Dean nodded. "I completely understand that—stay close, Kitten."

Charis nodded and headed out of Bobby's house, heading to his car park and looking around. Bobby had quite the collection of old and new cars—some whole, and some stripped of parts so he could put those parts onto other cars. Charis remembered being out here when John had died, and Dean was fixing his car, trying to piece together everything that she had been trying to piece together. She'd been out here looking for answers after learning that she had older brothers that she'd never known about before.

Bobby had been contacted about the car crash and so immediately he'd called Charis, thus bringing the three Winchester children together. Charis couldn't believe that she had brothers at first, and knew that Sam and Dean were completely taken aback that they had a little sister, but that wasn't what had made them all so hurt—it was John's passing. He finally came clean and then he was gone just like that…and Dean and Sam had latched onto her and accepted her into their family—Sam first, but Dean completely. This very place was where Dean had decided so firmly that Charis and Sammy were his two responsibilities, and his only way to live up to expectations was to keep them safe.

"Cas?" Charis asked out loud, feeling a little silly. "I actually have no idea how to contact you."

Charis gave an embarrassed laugh and swallowed hard, looking around as she was met by silence and a slight breeze which made her hug herself a little. She had actually felt this silly before in this exact same spot, asking Sam and Dean about their hunting experiences and for stories about John that she might not know. Sam had been the first to humor her and begin to let her in, but Charis sensed reluctance that Dean never fully developed himself in the beginning. John had told Dean to look after her, and Dean had found himself at the mercy of her pleading and questioning eyes, surrendering himself to the familiar love shortly after they were introduced. Maybe it had helped that she'd saved his ass in a hunt shortly after their father had passed—whatever it had been though, Charis had found herself close to her brothers, but close to them for different reasons.

"I actually feel really ridiculous out here talking to myself." Charis told the air around her.

Charis could feel his protective presence around her now but couldn't see him, so she heaved a sigh and then turned to go back towards the house, letting out a small shriek as Castiel stood there behind her. She had planned to simply leave since she knew he had a vessel now and could at least have the decency to show, and there he was—piercing eyes and confident stance. Charis had thought she'd find more happiness in seeing her Casper in front of her, but for some reason all she could do was stand there and feel a little upset. It didn't help that she could feel the sadness inside of her build, and the questions just started to fall out of her mouth as Castiel took two steps towards her.

"Why have you kept to yourself all this time, Cas? Why didn't you ever _tell_ me who you were? What is God's job for Dean? Were you _ever_ going to let me in on who you were?" Charis asked him.

Castiel raised an eyebrow as he found Charis starting to look him over, moving a little bit to the side to look over his vessel a little more. Castiel had always wanted to protect Charis, whether he was supposed to want that or not. Charis was a case of heated discussion among the angels and Castiel had found that he wanted to protect and comfort her when he could. Charis straightened up a little as Castiel began to move in her gaze, and their eyes met as she wished he would just speak to her and answer her.

"Well?" She asked, trying not to let him hear how hard she was fighting back the tears.

"It was not time for me to show myself, Charis." Castiel explained in an even tone. "I had orders, I followed them, and now you and I will be working together to help set Dean on his path—which I am not allowed to discuss with you at the present time."

Charis closed her mouth since he'd cut off the question she was about to ask and she nodded slowly—who was she to question an angel's orders. All she could do was take what he said and live with it since it was the will of God. Charis had so much faith in God, and if part of God's master plan was to rescue Dean from Hell, then Charis was simply going to follow that. It was blind faith that she had in him…in her Casper…and thought she wanted to know more, the look in Castiel's eyes proved to her that he would tell her when he could. So far her Casper had not let her down, and it was in that realization that she felt the tears swelling up in her eyes.

"You rescued him." Charis told him.

Castiel nodded. "It was God's will."

Charis smiled a little. "It was my prayer…you heard it when you were in the church the night you brought Dean back from Hell."

"You needed to know that your faith was not misplaced—comfort in the darkness." Castiel replied, and he swallowed a little.

Feelings were new to Castiel, and he wasn't quite sure what he was getting into when he'd taken Jimmy as a vessel to use for God's will. The image of Charis standing a couple feet away from him with tears in her eyes was making his stomach twist into a feeling he'd never experienced before, and he wasn't sure what to do. Castiel had simply gone to her after dragging Dean out, and used the priest's body for a very short while to comfort her…this body felt attachment to others so much more than the priest had. Castiel studied her, looking deep into her eyes from his perch as she closed her eyes to compose herself in front of him, clenching her fists as two large tears rolled down her cheeks.

As she went to wipe the tears away, Castiel listened to the instincts in his new body and stepped closer to her. Charis looked up at the movement and their eyes met, her giving him a small smile as he awkwardly went to hug her. She knew he'd never done this before as his arms didn't entirely wrap around her, and though a little uneasy about it at first, Charis found herself sinking into the angel and accepting the comfort that she needed so completely. As her arms wrapped around his waist to hold him to her as more tears came, Castiel mimicked what her arms were doing and held her there, still unsure about what feelings meant…still unsure about why he felt such a desire to make sure that Charis was all right and safe.

"Thank you for returning him to me." Charis whispered.

"I was just doing my job." Castiel told her with a nod and then as he felt her tense up a little he added, "You're welcome," and felt her relax back into him ever so slightly before she pulled away.

Charis put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and blushed a little as she looked back up at Castiel and flashed him a smile. Castiel straightened up himself and nodded, disappearing as Charis looked at the ground and then looked back up to see him gone. If he kept doing that, Charis was going to get rather annoyed with her Casper with his lack of 'goodbyes'. Still, Charis felt that she had fulfilled what she had come out to fulfill, and so she headed back inside, Sam coming back from his run to fetch Dean his pie.

"Look whose back from his bitch run." Charis said, and Sam smiled at his sister's joke.

"Well look who's getting a mouth." Sam told her and nudged her with his shoulder softly. "You okay? Your eyes look a little wet."

Charis realized she hadn't completely composed herself yet and shrugged it off with a giant smile and a quick wipe of the tears off of her cheeks she was sure Dean would find anyway. Sam let it go when she insisted, and then Dean and Bobby came out of the house and they seemed to be in a hurry. Charis' hunter instincts kicked in but Sam beat her to the question and they started to walk towards the Impala as Bobby headed for his own car.

"I got a friend one state over. Olivia Lowry. I've been trying to reach her for three days—it's not like her to ignore this many calls." Bobby informed them.

"Olivia Lowry? A hunter, right?" Sam asked him.

Bobby nodded. "Yeah. We're gonna go check on her. You guys follow me."

Charis, Dean and Sam hurried into the Impala, Sam handing over the bag that he brought back and Dean grinning. He was definitely hungry after all of that studying, and he was really looking forward to eating some pie. Charis climbed into the backseat after her brothers were already in the car and watched Dean as he opened up the bad and disappointment completely washed over his giddy and expectant face. He looked up at Sam, who looked back at him, Charis feeling that rush of happiness again at being able to watch her brothers interact with one another.

"Dude?" Dean asked him, raising his eyebrows in annoyance.

"Yeah?" Sam asked him with a shrug.

Dean gave Sam another look. "Where's the pie?"

Charis laughed. "Something bad _always_ happens when pie enters the picture with you—it's better off that you _don't_ have it."

Dean looked back at his sister and gave her a look too. "When has anything bad _ever_ happened when I got my damn pie?"

"Well let's see, Sam got kidnapped by the demon and then died, and Sam got the rabbit's foot stolen by Bela during his bad luck day, and then there's the demons in the pie shop when you came back and just _had_ to have it—shall I go on? Because I have lots of stories…those are just the demon related problems." Charis told him with a smirk.

Dean smiled at his sister's cheekiness and then turned the engine over and followed Bobby out onto the highway as Sam laughed and high-fived his sister. When they got to Olivia's place, all four hunters grabbed shotguns and Dean made Charis promise to stay close to him and it made her smile a little as they split from Bobby to search the house. However when they saw Olivia lying there completely disemboweled, Charis gagged a little and turned into Dean's open arms, resting herself into his expecting and calming chest. When it came to finding dead bodies, Charis wished that the finding of them would be completely left out of her end of the job description.

"Salt line." Sam pointed out to Dean as Dean used the EMF meter with one hand and held onto Charis with the other.

Dean nodded. "Olivia was rocking the EMF meter."

"Spirit activity?" Charis asked.

"Yeah. On steroids. I've never seen a ghost do this to a person. Bobby, you all right?" Dean asked as Bobby came into the room to join them.

Bobby took a deep breath. "I called some hunters nearby…"

Charis smiled at the prospect of more help—and more people to find dead bodies instead of her—but the look on Bobby's face worried her as Dean voiced his same enthusiasm. She was started to become accustomed to this feeling of worry and let down, and she wanted something to make it all better so she wouldn't have to feel so terribly so constantly. Bobby's worried eyes met hers as he formed his words and Charis swallowed in anticipation of bad news…something she'd done a few times that day and wished she hadn't had to.

"They ain't answering their phones either." Bobby told the three dismally.

Sam nodded. "Something's up, huh?"

"You think?" Bobby asked him sarcastically before he left the room to go back to his car.

Dean pulled out his cell phone to start making calls as they all left Olivia's house, Charis pulling out her own phone to help. Bobby was right—none of the hunters that they were calling were answering their phones, and Sam was starting to get fidgety as Dean made even more calls to try and help. Charis was starting to wonder exactly what could be going on that was so big, and tuned into her brother's voice.

"_Jed, Dean Winchester again. Friend of Bobby Singer's. Look, we think something's happening. We think it's happening to hunters. Just want to make sure you're okay. Call me back." Dean said and then hung up the phone and shook his head. "This isn't working."_

_"We should just go and check on him." Charis replied._

_Dean agreed with her and so he, Sam and Charis got back into the Impala and headed to Jed's, Charis stopping just shy of going in the front door. Sam reached out to take her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as Dean started to head in, Charis smiling at her brother's gesture but shaking her head. Sam placed a soft, quick kiss to her forehead and then nodded, looking her in the eye and smiling at her to try and ease the discomfort that she was feeling. Charis was not a coward, but she really didn't want to see another disemboweled person._

_"If he's alive, call me." Charis told Sam, who smiled a little and headed in, only to come back out with Dean, who was on the phone with Bobby._

_"Yeah, _we're at Jed's and it's not pretty at all. He looks even worse than Olivia. What about you?" Dean asked him.

Bobby sighed. "I checked on Carl Bates and R.C. Adams. They've redecorated…in red."

Dean nodded. "What the hell is going on here, Bobby? Why did a bunch of ghosts suddenly want to gank off-duty hunters?"

"I don't know, but until we find out, you guys better get your asses to my place." Bobby said. "We need to regroup and get this taken care of."

"We're on our way." Dean answered, and pointed to the car, Charis and Sam following him to the Impala.

Charis got into the backseat and desperately wished that Castiel would show himself and help them out—maybe give them more answers—but he wasn't showing. She was certain that as an angel Castiel had better things to do than to hang around and keep her comforted, but she'd needed that hug…she'd enjoyed it. Enjoying it was part of the reason why she'd pulled away—if Dean and Sam had taught her anything at all about this job, it was that getting close could put the ones you loved in danger. Problem was, Charis couldn't help but care about the people she considered family, and how could she not care about the presence that had been guiding her for so long and watching over her?

Charis drifted off to sleep a little as Sam took over the drive to Bobby's house, sitting up when he parked at a gas station to fill the car up. She looked over at Dean as he slept peacefully, drooling ever so slightly on himself, and then she rolled the window down and looked at Sam as he put the kickstand up on the nozzle and smiled at her. He had really hoped she'd get a complete cycle of sleep with everything she'd been going through since Dean died and now that he was back, but his little sister was stubborn and he knew it. So he simply stroked her hair and then kissed her forehead again when she warned him not to scratch Dean's beautiful baby, and then he headed in to use the restroom.

As Sam did nature's business, Charis began to feel that something was off and slowly got out of the Impala. She stood next to the side as she tried to assess exactly what it was that her gut was telling her as Sam looked up to see that some sort of ice had covered the mirror in the bathroom. When he went to wipe it away, he saw the ghost of Henriksen staring at him and he whirled around and faced the apparition in front of him—completely not a mirage.

"Hi, Sam. It's been a while." Henriksen told him with a smile on his face.

"Henriksen. Are you…? Did you…?" Sam tried, but the image in front of him blurred and Sam knew for certain this was a ghost, and probably part of whatever was going down.

"I didn't survive…if that's what you're asking." Henriksen replied with disappointment in his voice.

Sam nodded. "I'm sorry."

Sam began to explain about how they didn't know that Lilith was coming and Henriksen attacked him, Charis hearing the commotion and smacking Dean in the arm as she grabbed a gun from the car. Dean was up in seconds flat when he saw his sister reaching for the weapon and grabbed a gun of his own, both of them heading into the bathroom to see Henriksen's spirit pinning Sam to the wall. Sam noticed a mark on the apparition's hand Charis finding a moment and shooting at Henriksen, disintegrating the spirit. She'd already lost one brother and she wasn't about to lose another one—not if she had anything to say about it.

"We need to call Bobby." Dean said.

Charis felt her stomach sinking a little as she checked Sam over and nodded. "You're right, Dean—the same thing could be happening to him right now so we have to get on the road too."

Sam nodded and the three piled into the Impala after taking out the gas pump and securing the Impala, Dean trying to call Bobby as he drove and Charis checked Sam over again. She was after all more of a nurse than a hunter, and though a little annoyed at the kind of attention Dean and Charis were giving him over his encounter, he couldn't help but smile a little as his sister's persistence. If he didn't just answer her questions, she'd be pestering him the whole way to Bobby's.

"Bobby! Pick up!" Dean exclaimed.

"How you feeling, Sammy? How many fingers am I holding up?" Charis asked him.

Sam sighed. "Three."

"You know technically my thumb isn't a finger." Charis replied, but she laughed a little and then turned to Dean. "Bobby's not answering?"

Dean shook his head. "Henriksen? What did he want?"

"Revenge 'cause we got him killed." Sam said dismally.

The look in Dean's eyes made Sam shrug and protest that it had indeed been their fault that everyone in the jail had died, and Charis nodded a little—she felt guilty as well. Lilith had been after them when they'd hidden out in the jail to fight the gaggle of demons that wanted to see them bleed, and innocent people had died. She knew there hadn't been much a choice in the matter at where the showdown had to take place, but she and Sam shared the same guilt over it—the same responsibility.

"Alright. Stop right there. Whatever the hell is going on, it's happening to us now, okay? I can't get a hold of Bobby, so if you're not thinking answers, don't think at all." Dean replied.

Charis took a deep breath. "Fine…at least drive faster, Grandpa."


	7. Watching

**Pyro: And yet another chapter from the dastardly duo you have hopefully come to know and love—Pups and Pyro. This chapter was hard, and yet it's very important so pay attention or I feed you to Eric…**

**Pups: You guys better listen to her, she's serious! LOL this was a hard one, but I hope you guys enjoy this one! Standard Disclaimer applies, check out chapter one if you need to read it once more.**

Charis couldn't even begin to explain the agitation swirling around in her gut. Bobby was the closest thing that the Winchester's had to a father—and she was much more attached than Sam and Dean were. Bobby and Ellen pretty much raised her before she met her brothers, and to think that Bobby could end up like Olivia and Jed…Charis was half tempted to kick Dean out of the driver's seat and put the pedal to the medal herself. Her hands trembled as she clenched the black leather upholstery. There was the slim possibility that she could be over-reacting. But, as Bobby had been there for her, she needed to be there for the man that took her in and taught her all she knew.

"Dean, can't you make this rust bucket go any darned faster?" Charis bit out, tension making her voice harsh and shaky.

"Charis!" Dean turned to her shocked. He knew exactly how much she loved the car. Hell, he taught her how to fix it after her nagging to get a chance to touch the precious engine. "This car is sensitive!" Patting the steering wheel softly, he gave his attention back to the road. "Don't take it personally, baby, she didn't mean to be so cruel." Charis tried so hard to swallow the frustrated scream bubbling from her throat. Furiously, she threw herself back into the seat, crossing her arms over her tight black singlet. Not once more did she speak as the sleek black car ate the miles.

When they finally got to Bobby's, Charis was the first one out of the car, her black converse sneakers pounding up the dirt and gravel drive to the house. But before she could get there, Dean grabbed her waist and pulled her back. His dark glare said all as Sam reached them. They would go into the house first. Frustration once more bubbled up at their actions before reason slowly sunk in. Dean was always in the hero mindset, as was Sam. They both had the same reaction when she took matters in her own hand. She had to let them go first, take out the risks before letting her follow. Otherwise, Charis was left with furious silent treatment followed by angry shouting.

"Stay outside, Charis," Dean ordered, sliding easily into the fierce hunter.

"No," she replied, staring him down. "Bobby may need my help, we don't know what has happened."

"A good reason for you to stay out here," her brother countered.

"And what? Let whatever may have been here come after me cause the two of you are scoping the house and leaving me alone? I'm safer with you." Sam nodded behind her in agreement. Sighing, Dean looked around. "Fine, how about this? We split up, I'll stay out here and scope out the cars−"

"Sam will go with you and I'll check out the house on my own," Dean broke in decisively. "And no more arguing."

Charis closed her mouth, glad to have back up. Impatiently, she looked at Sam, eager to start looking. Dean was more than equipped to take care of himself. He had been in this lifestyle longer than either of them, and had learned more than Sam at the side of John. Sam took a hold of her free hand and they started to head towards Bobby's car yard, a shiver of apprehension slithering down her spine. Quickly, she broke free of Sam and rushed back to the car, pulling out her medical bag. There was a very high possibility that Bobby was hurt, even dead. If he was hurt she could heal him but if he was dead…she decided then and there not even to think of that as a possibility. Sam took hold of her hand once more, silently offering the reassurance that she needed. For a while, the only sound she heard was the gravel crunching underneath their feet and the subtle hush of the tree branches swaying in the wind at the edge of the property. They came up to a large pile of cars.

"Lets check over here." Sam told Charis, letting go of her hand slowly and pointing up to a pile in front of them. Charis' sense of foreboding rushed back at her as she shifted her weight.

"It's a big car park maybe we should—"

"—No." Sam told her, cutting her off and shrugging as she scrunched up her nose again. "You're sticking by me and that's the end of the discussion." She gave a small growl of irritation.

"You know it would be a lot easier to find Bobby if one of you two would pull the stick out of your asses and let your sister walk through some wrecked cars on her own. Besides…Cas would never let anything happen to me…he's always there when I need him to be." Charis replied with forced calm.

Sam smiled a little at his baby sister, wanting desperately to believe that if Charis was in trouble then Castiel would swoop in out of nowhere and save her if she needed the saving, but he just couldn't take that chance with her. Charis was his and Dean's responsibility, and he couldn't be responsible for her getting herself into any kind of danger. So he stood by his decision and Charis sighed.

Neither of them aware of the kind of danger that Bobby was in out near one of the wrecked cars. He was looking at two little girls, twins with white dresses on and long black hair, and they were rather angry with him, trapping him in one of the wrecked cars with them. They were sinister in their innocence. Their purity marred by the ash grey aura around them, as though they came from a realm of smoke.

"_Are you scared, Bobby_?" One of the little girls asked him, her voice childlike and yet mildly evil.

"_We were scared, Bobby._" The other added, looking at Bobby with deep eyes of hurt and malice

The first one nodded. "_When the monster came for us…_"

"…_and grabbed us tight._"

"_We couldn't even scream._" One of them stroked his hair softly, her face blank from expression as she stared back at her sister. Bobby's heart pounded. He could feel his death coming for him out the corner of his eye. Praying he begged the man upstairs for help, for forgiveness, and for the safety of the Wincesters. It was only a matter of time before they came after there. The other twin tugged his hair sharply, forcing his attention back to them.

"_You were right there, Bobby._"

"_You were in the house._"

"_You were so close._" The second told him matter-a-factly, and she reached out to cover his nose and mouth so he couldn't call out for help. Outside he could hear Charis and Sam, calling for him and searching cars.

"Sam, help me with this would you?" Charis said, putting her pistol in her waist band and tried to open a trunk. She felt ill as time when on without any sign of the grizzly hunter that she held so close to her heart. Sam came over to her and helped to open the rusted hunk of tin. Nothing, still nothing, just like the previous ten trunks she had checked before.

"_You could have saved us Bobby. __We're here, Bobby__. You walked right past that door._" The little girl told him, shaking her head at him.

The other nodded. "_The monster had us_."

"_And you didn't find us…and now they won't find you_." The girl with her hand over Bobby replied, pinching his nose to make him stop breathing. He started to thrash and cry out, the sound muffled by the lack of air. As he started to black out, the car got colder and colder, his blood feeling like it was going to freeze.

"SAM!" Charis cried out as she turned in dismay of the empty truck and saw a car with ice on its windows.

Sam nodded. "Like the ice in the bathroom. Bobby! Hold on, Bobby! We're coming! Bobby!"

No sound came from the car. "Why isn't he saying anything?" Charis asked Sam, panicked. Something had happened. She rushed forward, ignoring Sam as she scrambled up the other cars, not even aware when rusted metal tore through her jeans and skin. She tugged furiously at the door handle, vaguely noting Sam doing the same on the other side.

Sam disappeared for a moment when he realized that he couldn't open the door, only to return a moment later with an iron bar. Charis could only stare in horror as she took in the scene before her. Two insubstantial twin girls had managed to subdue her father figure and was slowly killing him, depriving him of the air he so desperately needed to survive.

Bobby stared into her hazel green eyes, silently screaming his terror and pain. With a steal scream, the door on Sam's side gave way. With a desperate swing, he tore through the ghostly silhouette. The pain in Bobby's eyes was something so familiar it caused tears to sting her eyes. All she wanted to do was figure out what the hell was going on and stop it before everything got worse. She helped him out slowly, careful to help him down the rusted car.

"Where's Dean?" Bobby asked shakily after he got his breath back.

Sam pointed to the house. "We split up to search for you—you weren't answering your phone."

Charis nodded and hit his arm. "You scared me!"

Bobby smiled briefly at his little Charis and took her hand in his, squeezing it to reassure her that he was fine. Sam broke their little moment, saying that they needed to hurry to Dean. They both were more than willing to go and find Dean, so they hurried into the house and found him coming down the stairs.

He looked a little roughed up and Charis got to him immediately to look him over. Bobby pointed towards his library, at the moment they all seemed pretty safe from the apparitions showing themselves, and yet Sam and Bobby seemed to be close to a theory and what better place to research and think than Bobby's library?

"I saw Meg." Dean said as they entered.

Sam nodded. "So, they're all people we know?"

"Not just know, Sammy—people we couldn't save by the looks of it." Charis corrected him. Pulling Bobby down on a chair, she pulled out swabbing alcohol and cleaned the small amount of blood on his temple. He looked up at her with a soft smile before turning to his books.

"Charis is right—and I saw something on Meg. Did she have a tattoo when she was alive?" Dean asked the others as he cleaned and reloaded his shotgun.

"I don't think so." Charis told him as she pondered. "But I wasn't really around back then. Sam?"

"Nope, no tattoo," he replied. "What did it look like?"

Dean sighed. "Well it was like a…a mark on her hand. Almost like a brand."

Charis' eyes lit up as Sam mentioned that Henriksen had one as well and Bobby asked Sam to draw it for him. Suddenly her mood took a downturn. Whatever was happening was a lot bigger than what they normally dealt with if every hunter was susceptible to the onslaught of attacks. If every ghost of every person that couldn't be saved was showing up, then it was only a matter of time before Charis would have to face her own skeletons, and she wasn't ready for that. As a hunter, when they couldn't save someone, as much as it weighed on their conscience afterwards, they had to move on for the sake of their sanity, and for the mentality next hunt.

"I may have seen this before." Bobby told them as he took a look at the piece of paper and then grabbed some of his books as some lamps started crackling. "We got to move."

"Whoa." Sam replied as Bobby thrust some books at him, Charis grabbing a pile of her own and followed him out of the room.

Bobby headed towards the library exit. "Well, come on."

"Okay. Where are we going?" Sam asked, standing there still as Dean stood up with his gun in hand.

Bobby turned to him and gave him a look as Charis joined him at the door. "Some place safe, you _idgit_."

Charis chortled with laughter at the way Bobby insulted Sam and Dean, and followed after him quickly as he took them down a flight of stairs. She had always known that Bobby had a basement, and she'd been in it before, but there was something new about it…something off almost.

Then she saw it: a giant armored-like door and an aeration grid that looked like a Devil's Trap. When Bobby switched on the light, Charis took a good look at the symbol on the floor, the arsenal against the wall, the desk and the bed and realized just what Bobby had done as Sam touched the wall while Dean came in and looked in awe, Bobby closing the door behind them.

"Bobby, is this…?" Sam began with an astonished look on his face.

"Solid iron. Completely coated in salt. 100% ghost-proof." Bobby replied.

Charis laughed a little. "Wow, Bobby."

"You built a panic room?" Sam asked with a bubbled laugh of wonder.

Bobby shrugged. "I had a weekend off."

Charis giggled again and realized just how much she enjoyed being around the three most important hunters in her life—besides Ellen of course. She always felt so safe and at home with them, and though being with Ellen with Castiel near would be her ideal situation, this was good too. Besides, just the fact that Bobby had spent so much time working on a place that he could hide out in to be able to regroup and then go out for more, reaffirmed her love and respect for him. Unfortunately, it also made her wish that it didn't mean that there really was a war at their doorstep…a war she wasn't sure she was ready to fight in.

"Bobby?" Dean asked him.

"What?" Bobby replied. Charis threw her older brother a curious glance.

"You're awesome." Dean told him with a large grin on his face and then he saw a poster that had Bo Derek in a swimsuit from the movie _Ten_. "Oh!"

Shaking her head, Charis laughed at her brother's silliness. "As cool as it is and as much as I'm sure Bobby loves the way you two are fawning over the _manly_ things…can we get down to business please? The more time we spend in here is the more time spent not helping the hunters out there that are being killed off."

"Your sister is right—you should listen to her more often." Bobby told Sam and Dean, sending Charis a smirk as she grinned at him.

Dean and Sam chuckled and rolled their eyes before turning back and prepared more salt rounds. Sooner or later they knew they'd have to venture out into the ghosts again, and they had to be prepared. Bobby seemed worried most about Charis, mainly because sooner or later he was sure she would be face to face with some ghosts of her own that the boys had no clue about. Sam was busy trying to figure out why the ghosts were here and why the brand was on their hands and Dean was feeling a little more like he had a leg to stand on in his God argument.

"See, this is why I can't get behind God." Dean said at once.

Charis swallowed and looked at her brother. "Yes, Dean?" her heart pounded. She needed him to be on God's side. All she had was her brothers and her faith and if her brother wasn't by her side on this one, she had no idea what the hell was going to happen.

"If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason. Just random, horrible, evil. I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if He is out there, what's wrong with Him? Where the hell is He while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does He live with Himself? You know, why doesn't He help?" Dean asked out loud, and neither Sam nor Bobby wanted to even _try_ to answer the question.

"I'm sure God has a plan, besides…you need the bad." Charis replied softly, more than willing to debate.

Dean looked at her sister as he continued to prepare his gun. "Well since you're the one who's all churchy and everything would you care to elaborate?"

Charis rolled her eyes. "Don't get borderline annoyed with me, Dean—you have to go through the bad, otherwise you won't appreciate the good. If everything was all sunshine and rainbows are you seriously telling me you wouldn't take it for granted?" Dean continued to stare at her, taking in her words and thinking them over. He glanced over at Sam who agreed absently in agreement.

"Charis has a point." Sam said with a nod. "Besides if God just kept us all safe and wrapped us up in warm love and everything, we wouldn't get to experience the full array of human emotions—and you wouldn't be able to whore yourself out."

"Good point…that would suck." Dean told them, mentally clinging to his almost rock star lifestyle.

Sam and Charis couldn't help but laugh at their brother and his vulgar mind. To be honest, Charis thought to herself, Dean really wasn't one to use his upstairs brain for much thinking, and if he did, he wouldn't be the brother his younger siblings knew and adored. Bobby even thought the eldest Winchester was rather entertaining, and shook his head as he kept in his laughter, his eyes going wide as he found what he was looking for. He swallowed and looked up, Charis looking over at him as she heard the hunter grunt a little in discomfort.

"What is it, Bobby?" Charis asked him.

Bobby sighed. "The symbol—the brand you guys saw—it's the Mark of the Witness."

"Witness? Witness to what?" Sam asked him, scrunching up his face in confusion.

"The unnatural, Sammy." Charis told her bother, standing up and heading over to Bobby to look at the book he had in his hand. "These ghosts were forced to rise." Sam let out a silent 'oh' in understanding, his usual go-happy expression distant.

Bobby nodded. "None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths, so when they were forced to rise, they woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them…on purpose."

"Who?" Sam asked.

"Do I look like I know?" Bobby replied with a look of annoyance on his face. "But whoever it was used a spell so powerful that it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans. It's called 'The rising of the witnesses"'. It figures into an ancient prophecy."

Charis swallowed as Bobby began to explain to Sam and Dean that it was from the Bible—from Revelations. Dean seemed skeptical and worried, and Sam looked completely miffed when Bobby mentioned the apocalypse. Was that why the angels had pulled Dean out of Hell? Did they _know_ that the apocalypse was coming and after all of this Castiel didn't even have the decency to let Charis know what the Hell was going on? And that was almost just it…Hell…on earth. A rush of betrayal flooded her body.

Throwing the book back on the table, she ignored the surprised glances the others gave her and stalked towards the door. Her hand touched the door handle. Gripping it tightly, her muscles clenched as she made to open it, but she couldn't walk out, she couldn't go up and scream her anger at the angel that perched on her shoulder so often.

Dean walked up to her, his large hand landing on her shoulder gently. Letting out a shaky breath, she turned back to him, a large fake smile before walking back to her chair and slouching down. although she wanted to rant and rage at her Casper, she just couldn't. throwing Dean and apologetic smile, Charis turned her attention back to the conversation, not noticing his confused expression as he continued.

"The apocalypse?" Dean repeated for the third time as he looked Bobby square in the eye.

Bobby sighed. "Yes, Dean!"

Dean nodded slowly. "As the apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, $5-A-Gallon-Gas apocalypse?"

"That's the one. The rise of the witnesses is a mile marker." Bobby explained. Charis' elbows rested on her thighs as she buried her head into her hands in hopelessness. But, they had a job to do, and even though she wasn't much of a fighter, she was going to be right there with her brothers at the front lines.

"So then what do we do now?" Sam asked them all.

"Road trip." Dean suggested as Charis rolled her eyes at the prospect of not helping out as much as they could—they were after all hunters aware of what was going on. "Grand Canyon. Star Trek experience. Bunny ranch."

Bobby chuckled a little. "First things first. How about we survive our friends out there? There's a spell that we can do to send them back that should work."

Charis agreed quickly as Sam started being a smart mouth about how it 'should' but might not work, and Dean and Bobby set to discussing the spell. They'd need an open flame which meant the fireplace in the library, which meant they'd have to wade through ghosts a little bit.

Charis tuned them out a little bit, reflecting inwards. It was usually around this time when her Casper usually showed, giving her the reassurance that gave her the strength to continue. She was worried. Castiel wasn't anywhere around, but maybe he had better things to do…maybe his orders had him placed somewhere away from her. Still, Charis knew that she'd feel a whole lot safer with Castiel by her side—even if she felt safe with the three hunters in the 'panic room' with her. Dean's voice broke through her thoughts, bring her attention back to reality.

"That's just not as appealing as a ghost-proof panic room, you know?" Dean told Bobby, who pointed to the door. They gathered their tools, guns, salt rounds and iron, preparing themselves for a fierce dirty and dogged fight to end the spell. Charis was terrified. Still with no sign from Castiel, she continued to arm herself, letting Dean check her over and touch up her mistakes. His hand reached around to the back of the neck, forcing her eyes to meet his. Soulful and serious, loving eyes gazed into hers.

"I want you to stay on my ass, keep close okay? I won't let anything happen to you, baby girl." Tears stung her eyes as the reassurance and security that she needed flooded through her.

"I promise, Dean," Charis replied. "I won't let you down."

"Good," he smiled, "You have all the ammo." Her mouth dropped open as he turned and walked to the door, pausing to wait for her. Sam and Bobby stood there, waiting for them with sawed off shot guns at the ready. Charis listened when Bobby said they had to cover each other and shoot before they talked.

His words swirled around her head as she turned and saw him, her breath catching in her throat. Distantly she was aware the others kept moving, but she felt frozen, unable to go on. Flashes of her worst memory pushed viciously into her mind as she stared at the boy in torn clothing. Unconsciously she aimed the pistol at him, but her finger refused to touch the trigger. _Charis, you could have stopped it,_ he whispered, the others too far to pull her out of it. They thought her able to take care of herself.

Like a hypnotist, he caught her, pulled her in with his victimized voice. Brown shaggy hair framed his eyes that gleamed at her with unholy brightness. His large white shirt hung off him in shreds, covering the waist band of his light blue jeans. Faded orange blood stains covered his front, stemming from the tears. _You could have stopped it, _he repeated. _You could have gotten there before it dragged me out the window._

Charis swallowed, a lump in her throat making her voice strangled. "I didn't get upstairs in time…it didn't want me to save you and I wasn't strong enough." He took a few steps towards her. Mouth dry, Charis found that she couldn't move. Bobby and she had tried everything in their power to get to the shape shifter and destroy it, but they failed, the whole job.

The shifter got the boy and made his escape, his taunting childish laughter echoing in her ears. It was that hunt that caused her to question her beliefs, the hunt that made her who she was now. The guilt killed her a little more as the days took her further and further away. So she hid herself behind a saying: _help when she could, pick her battles and don't go in without a back up plan. _

She wasn't made for the hunting world like Dean and Sam. She wasn't bred for it. A voice called her name, pulling at her, trying to take her away from the boy that shaped her to who she was. Dean's voice broke through the spell, the salt tearing through the tenuous shadow as she whispered her apology. He pulled her away, tearing her from wallowing in guilt. But her voice of reason mumbled to her, whispering that the ghosts blamed them, but it was her own guilt that drew them to her. Everything had been out of her control. As they got to the stairs, another ghost blocked their way, Victor Hendrickson. Charis could barely comprehend the words spoken before Dean started to talk him down.

"It's my fault you're dead. I left you behind. And the minute I heard about that explosion, I thought, 'I should have known'. I should have protected you." Dean told Hendrickson, and he took a step back but Hendrickson sent his shotgun flying as he realized the hunter would go for it.

_Unh- Unh. Not so fast. You think you left and Lilith came and we all died in a beautiful blast of white light? If only. 45 minutes_. Hendrickson explained.

Dean swallowed. "What?"

_Over 45 minutes. Lilith said she wanted to have some fun. The secretary was first. Remember her? Nancy, the virgin. Lilith filleted Nancy's skin off piece by piece right in front of us, made us watch. Nancy never stopped screaming. No. That was the last_. Hendrickson told him and as Dean started to try to make him see reason again, he plunged his hand inside Dean's chest and compressed his heart. Charis stood there, staring at the wrist poking out from her brother's chest. _Tell me how it's fair—you get saved from hell…I die. Why do you deserve another chance, Dean?_

"DEAN!" Charis yelled as she finally was able to comprehend what the hell was going on. Sam swooped in at the same time and taking the man out. With a ragged shaky breath, Dean coughed his relief as the started to move again, an unusual urgency lending their bones speed.

"Library—now—we have to protect Bobby while he's doing the spell. I drew a line of salt, but that could only last so long if they find a way around it—or a way to break the line." Sam said but as they neared the doors to the library, Ronald blocked their path, right in front of Dean again.

"Ronald. Hey, come on, man. I thought we were pals." Dean protested, moving backwards and pulling a few shells out of Charis' belt.

"That's when I was breathing. Now I'm gonna eat you alive." Ronald replied with a friendly smile.

Dean loaded his shotgun. "Well…come on, I'm not a cheeseburger."

Charis aimed her pistol as well but Ronald disappeared so they hurried forward into the library where Bobby started the spell. However, as he did so the windows flew open and the wind broke the line of salt Sam had placed down while the other two were downstairs. Charis, Sam and Dean started to shoot at the spirits, them popping in and out, wearing down their resources until they ran out of ammo. The line broke. Meg used her telekinesis to pin Sam behind some furniture, and Ryan took care of pinning Charis to the wall. Dean watched in almost helplessness before Sam yelled instructions.

"Cover Bobby!" Sam managed to yell at Dean. Charis and Sam watched in horror as Meg appeared behind Bobby, who remained oblivious as he finished the mixing of the spell.

Dean nodded and while he did so making eye contact with Sam, Meg plunged her hand into Bobby's back to compress his heart as Hendrickson had done to Dean. Bobby lost hold of the bowl that had the contents for the spell in it, but Dean managed to catch the bowl and tossed the contents into the fire. The minute he did so the ghosts all disappeared and Sam and Charis both regained their balance and the four hunters looked at each other—this was only the beginning and they knew it.

"Nice catch." Charis told Dean, and he shrugged as he grinned.

"I know—I'm amazing." Dean replied, pulling Charis into a hug. "We need to talk about what happened before." She nodded and kissed his cheek, relieved that it was all over for the moment.

Sam rolled his eyes. "And so modest."

Charis laughed and the four hunters checked on things and picked up a little. However, the picking up a little turned into most of the day, and mainly Charis cleaning while the others sat around. Finally the nightmare ended with Bobby telling them to get some sleep so that they could check up on things after some good, healthy rest. Like gentlemen, Sam and Dean let Charis sleep on the couch, knowing the last thing she wanted was to was sleep alone in her own room, while they slept on the floor.

It wasn't much of a sleep though—at least not for Dean. Waking up in the middle of the night, he found Charis watching him from the couch, a peaceful grin on her face as she took him in. Suddenly, they both felt a presence in the room. He felt like he was practically being stalked by the angel, but Charis was different. She had a smile on her face as she felt his warm presence. Angry with him or not, Castiel made her feel like nothing could possibly be as bad as she thought it was. Following Dean, they walked into the kitchen, trying to avoid waking the others.

"Excellent job with the witnesses." Castiel told Dean and Charis, leaning back on his hands on the sink. He was framed by the moonlight, giving him an otherworldly, regal air. Charis blushed and ducked her head as he turned her gaze towards her.

"You were hip to all this?" Dean asked him as Charis tried to fight back the attraction she was feeling for the cocky angel before her.

Castiel nodded. "I was, uh, made aware."

"Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance. You know, I almost got my heart ripped out of my chest?!" Dean asked him angrily.

"Dean come on…let him say what he came here to talk to us about." Charis chided.

Dean sent her a look. "Don't defend him! I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos…You know, Michael Landon. Not dicks."

"Dean Lucas Winchester!" Charis exclaimed, smacking her brother lightly in the arm. "Is that seriously anyway to speak to an angel?"

Dean sent his sister a look and then glared at Castiel as he saw the angel smile fondly at Charis. He wasn't certain of much as far as angels and God were concerned, but he was certain of one thing—this angel should _not_ be looking at his sister the way that he was, and she shouldn't be feeling so safe with him. It was bad enough that Castiel had been following her for the last two years and now they were making eyes at each other practically—not okay…not okay at all.

"He's a warrior—it says so in the bible." Charis told Dean, and then looked at Castiel.

Castiel nodded. "I'm not here to perch on your shoulder. We had larger concerns."

"Concerns?! There were people getting torn to shreds down here! And, by the way, while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh, if there is a God? And what do you mean you don't perch on shoulders? You sit on my sister's shoulder!" Dean asked him.

"There's a God." Castiel replied as Charis closed her eyes and shook her head. "And your sister is different, God has a very serious plan for her."

She understood that Dean was having a hard time trying to grasp the concept of all of the angel and God things that they needed to believe now, but he was also putting up more of a fuss than he needed to be. Castiel had obviously come to them to explain what his next orders were, seeing as how Dean had been so important that Castiel had been ordered to bring him out of Hell. Charis still wanted to know exactly why that was, but she knew Castiel would tell her all in good time…wouldn't he?

"I'm not convinced. 'Cause if there's a God, what the hell is He waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the Earth? The freaking apocalypse? At what point does He lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?" Dean asked Castiel. "And I'm not even going to touch on what you said about my sister today!"

"The Lord works—" Castiel tried.

"—if you say "mysterious ways", so help me, I will kick your ass." Dean warned and shot his sister a look as he saw her hand move in the corner of his eye. "So, Bobby was right…about the witnesses. This is some kind of a…sign of the apocalypse."

"That's why we're here: 'the rising of the witnesses' is one of the sixty six seals." Castiel explained.

Charis blushed a little as his blue eyes met hers but waved it off by shrugging it off. "Sixty six seals…they're being broken then? Someone—or something—is bringing about the apocalypse by breaking these seals?"

Castiel nodded. "Lilith. She raised the spirits and now the seal is broken."

"So what…the seals are like…locks on a door or something?" Dean asked Castiel who nodded at him. "Okay so last one opens and…?"

"Lucifer walks free." Castiel replied.

Charis swallowed—well that was just peachy. If Lilith was able to actually break the sixty six seals that she needed to break then Lucifer was going to rise out of Hell and she didn't want to listen to Dean and Castiel contemplating Lucifer's real existence. She just wanted to know how to stop the end from coming and she knew they were both probably going to get testy with her but this was no time for some kind of male pissing contest. Charis snapped her fingers loudly as Dean started to chide Castiel on his 'bang up job' with the witnesses, and sighed as Castiel got in his last words.

"There are other battles and other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one we lost. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here." Castiel told Dean, who was starting to understand just how much Castiel was _not_ to be trifled with. "You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in." Charis shivered at the sheer menace that Castiel conveyed. He threw her an unreadable glance.

"CAS!" Charis chided, but he vanished before she could try to get the two to call a truce, and she and Dean found themselves waking up that morning with a start, Sam already getting himself put together for the morning. "Morning, Sammy."

"You two all right?" Sam asked, and then looked over Dean's expression. "What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean swallowed. "So...You got no problem believing in...God and angels?"

Sam laughed a little. "No, not really. Charis and I have always pretty much believed in them."

Dean nodded. "So, I guess that means that you believe in the Devil?"

"Why are you asking me all this?" Sam asked his brother with worry on his face. Charis and Dean shared a look before pushing their brother into a chair.


	8. Angel Intermission

_**Pups: Hey hey, this update is all my fault with the wait, please blame me! And to our new readers, Howdy! Hope you enjoy this sub chapter….Standard disclaimer applies…**_

**Pyro: Cas love is appreciated...maybe it'll get him out of his shell...just don't picture him naked cause he'll go back into hiding. Oh...and reviews make Pups and us happy...*shifty eyes***

_**Angel Intermission… **_

_**Charis aged eight:**_

_The afternoon was bright, sun shining and warm. It didn't matter that earlier in the day had been a funeral, nor did it matter to the sky that a young girl was left alone in the world, her parents deep in the earth. Charis sat on one of the dark wooden pews, watching the shafts of light staining the floor from the windows depicting heavenly scenes. It was her favorite place in the world, the place where she felt the safest. Her mother used to say that if she was not at school, she was at the priest's knee, learning lessons that would lead her to a life in a convent._

_Her father, who was actually her step father, used to joke that it was more than okay with him, he didn't have to worry about keeping his gun clean when the boys came sniffing around. But no longer were their voices in the house, no longer did she smell her mother's perfume. They were gone, up to heaven, the priest told her, but gone nonetheless. _

_He was in his office, talking to two people who had showed up just as they were lowering her parents into the ground. Explaining to him that her true father couldn't handle the responsibility, but had made one of them her guardian. As soon as the wake started, Charis had darted up to her room, packing her two Barbie suitcases and had gone into her mother's room, taking her perfume, jewelry box and the photo of her family in a small gold frame. Thinking twice, she grabbed her father's cologne, not wanting to forget his comfortable woodsy scent._

_She knew the priest couldn't look after her, just like she knew the man and woman who had shown up were going to take her away from her home. She would miss her friends, her school, but most of all, the church. Walt Disney had prepared her for this, Bambi and Cinderella both showing her that as soon as the mother and father left the world, her home wouldn't be her home anymore. Not caring at the people coming up to watch her, she pulled them down the stairs to the front door, setting them side by side before walking out and down to the church. _

_As much as her parent's death hurt her, she wasn't going to stop the world from going around. She was going to face it like her mother taught her._

_**Charis aged fifteen:**_

"_Charis Winchester, I swear to GOD that I'm going to call Bobby and let him know all about this!" Ellen yelled, holding up the broken voodoo doll._

"_It wasn't me, it was Jo!" yelled the voice behind the door._

"_Jo is seventeen, she knows better. Why would she tell me that you broke it if she did it?"_

"_That's why!" an object thumped against the door. "I wouldn't touch that ugly thing even if you paid me!"_

_Ellen sighed and walked back to the bar, her blue eyes drawn and tired, "Jo, honey, come here a minute?"_

_A slender blonde-haired woman popped her head around the corner, pink and flushed. Catching sight of the doll in her mother's hands, Jo's flush darkened. Ellen stared at her daughter for a few moments, frustrated._

"_What have I told you about blaming Charis for something she didn't do?"_

"_But she did do it, Mom, not directly, but she made the walls shake and the doll fell off the shelves."_

"_She couldn't have, I made sure that she had the symbol against possession tattooed on her when she first moved here." Ellen disagreed, moving into the kitchen and away from prying Hunter's ears._

"_I'm telling you she did. Charis wasn't possessed, her eyes didn't turn black but they were really blue, like glowing blue!" Jo said earnestly, her face open like a book. Ellen sighed, not sure what to make of all of this._

"_You tell me if something like this happens again. Immediately." _

_**Charis aged seventeen:**_

_The office was aesthetically pleasing, rich dark wood paired off with dark hunter green fabrics. A black messenger bag rested against a divan, covered in strange symbols drawn with silver marker. Sitting on the couch, cross-legged, Charis stared at the doctor in front of her, a mulish glare causing her brows to scrunch above her nose. Her hair was chopped short, like a boy's, soft auburn bangs falling into her eyes. Tight jeans encased her legs, black converse sneakers peaking out from the hem. A black corduroy military jacket covered a simple white tee shirt, wrapped around her like amour. _

_The doctor was a stereotypical therapist, balding, late forties and overweight. A grey suit clung to his form awkwardly as he watched her over wire-rimmed glasses. "Your guardian, Ellen, has organized this meeting between us because she's worried about you. Do you have any idea why?"_

_Charis stared at him, un-amused and eager to leave. "She thinks that I hear voices."_

_He cleared his throat. "What she told me was that sometimes, when you're on your own or when you think you're alone, you start to space out, you're head cocked as though you're straining to hear someone." He shifted, leaning forward. "I want you to know what you're not a freak, this isn't even a big problem, easily solved and that you're not alone in this. Your guardian and I will be there, supporting you every step of the way."_

"_What do you want me to say?" she said, her tone tense and hurt. "Do you know how she and Jo look at me when they catch me listening to them? They think I'm some kind of freak when I listen to the whispers. The voices aren't even aware that I can hear them while they talk about some upcoming battle. The things they talk about scare me." She lapsed into silence, as though her outburst was too much. "I just want it to stop, I just want to be normal," she whispered, finally, her shoulders slumping as the weight disappeared. _

"_When did it start," the doctor asked gently._

"_I don't know, before my parents died, I think. It stopped when I moved in with Ellen for a while, and then picked up again a few months later. I thought they were imaginary friends but they just wouldn't go away."_

"_I'm going to ask you something, and I promise you, your answer will not go any further than these four walls, ok?" The doctor said, leaning forward. Charis nodded miserably. "Now, have you done anything to stop these voices on your own?" _

_Charis swallowed, drawing her knees up to her chin. "I've started to smoke, not weed or anything, but the cigarette quiets them down a little, lets me get to sleep."_

"_You live at a roadside bar, correct?"_

"_Yes."_

"_I would have thought alcohol would have been your poison of choice."_

_Charis shook her head. "Ellen checks the liquor count every hour, makes sure nothing is missing and the till is correct. Cigarettes are easier, I can either bum or flitch them off of the regulars in the bar."_

"_I'm going to prescribe you some pills that will take the voices away, get you off those cancer sticks. I also suggest a lifestyle change, grow your hair, and change your look, something different." He looked down at his desk, scribbling a few notes down on a form._

"_I'm going to take up nursing when I graduate; I'm going to move in with a family friend, Bobby while I study. Does that count?"_

*******************

The hotel they were in was the same as all the others, ratty, bad seventies décor and uncomfortable beds. Sharing a bed with Dean once more, Charis slept fitfully, occasionally falling into deeper sleep, only to be brought back out by loud horns and cars outside. Dean stirred with her, grunt and groaning, drawn into his own dreams.

Sam wasn't actually sleeping like his siblings were—he was waiting for the perfect moment to get up and head out of the door. He knew it probably wasn't the best idea that he had, but if Ruby had shown him anything in Dean's absence, it was that his powers could be used for good…he just had to harness them first. It hurt him a little bit that he couldn't just share the information with Dean, but he knew how Dean felt about psychics…knew that his powers scared his brother—and so he kept it to himself.

Moving quietly as to not bring them fully to wakening, Sam slipped out of his bed practically fully dress and snuck a look at Dean and Charis. He was glad his brother was back for both his sake and for his sister, and he was determined to be more of a help than a hindrance to them both. He slipped on his boots carefully, lacing them up silently before grabbing a backpack, the hotel key and his phone before slipping out the door. Just like always, Ruby was waiting for him, only now that Dean was back they were using Ruby's care instead of Dean's.

"You sure you wanna sneak out when you're brother is fresh out of the pit?" Ruby asked him.

Sam nodded as he climbed into the passenger seat. "I need to do this."

She smiled at him. "You don't have to tell me twice."

Back in the hotel room, Dean stirred his dreams more vicious as memories assaulted him. With a startled yell, he woke up, elbowing Charis in the side.

"Ow! Dean, what the hell?!" Charis whined, punching him in the arm. Wincing a little, Dean turned his head. There, sitting on the bed beside them, was Castiel.

"Hello Dean." His tone was low and gravelly, as always. "Charis. What were you dreaming about?" Dean stared at him, unsure how to take the questioning lilt in his voice. Uncomfortable at the images that came to him with the question, he jumped off the bed, pulling on his jacket as a delaying method.

"What, do you get your freak on by watching other people sleep?" Charis frowned at her brother from her position on the bed. "What do you want?"

The angel's expression turned grave. "Listen to me, you have to stop it."

Dean's brow raised in confusion, "Stop what?" he asked, as Castiel's fingers came to rest on his forehead.

********************

Charis let out a gasp as Dean collapsed to the floor. Scrambling out of the bed, she lunged to his side, her fingers searching for his pulse frantically. "What did you do?" she accused, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Dean? Dean? Wake up, please wake up!" She began to shake his shoulders, even slapping his face lightly to try to wake him up. Castiel watched her for a while, like a silent guardian.

"Perhaps I should have given some warning pertaining to my actions," he said after a while before leaning over a lifting Dean to the bed effortlessly.

"What did you do?" Charis asked fiercely, tears decorating her lashes.

"I did what was necessary to guide him back to the right path."

"Oh, yeah, that really explains everything," she bit out sarcastically. He stared at her for a moment before shifting his gaze back to the hunter on the bed.

"You're more like Dean than I anticipated. The years I've spent watching over you only offered hints of this aspect of you." Castiel said softly, his head turned from hers so he missed her red cheeks.

"As nice as that is, you still haven't told me what you did to him. I need to know what to expect so that when he wakes up I can treat him properly or call an ambulance if I need one."

"I sent him on a journey, so that he can understand that no matter what path he chose before now, it would lead exactly where we are today. He entertains the thought that this is all pure circumstance."

Charis sat back on the bed, stroking her brother's hair lightly. "I hope this doesn't come around and bite you back." She looked up at him, hazel green clashing with electric blue. "So here's my million dollar question: You said that you've been protecting me, that the Lord has a serious plan for me. What is it?"

"I cannot reveal it all to you, some facts are hidden even from my eyes," he began, walking over to her side and crouched down so that he was level with her. "Do you remember as a child, you had certain talents? You could hear voices, move things with your mind?" Charis nodded slowly. "All I can tell you for now is that because of those things, it makes you very important to both the angels and demons and the demons are going to be very persistent in their hunt for you."

They both fell silent, Charis unsure on how she should react. Castiel looked up at her. "I am sorry for not being able to reassure you these past few months."

"I imagine it takes a while to take on hell and pull out a specific soul," she replied, fumbling for her bag without leaving Dean and pulling out a packet of cigarettes and lit one up.

"Those things are detrimental to your health," Castiel pointed out. Charis snickered at his thinly veiled disgust humorlessly.

"I only smoke when I'm stressed, guess my blood pressure has risen recently."

************************

They didn't talk again for several hours, nothing more needed to be said. Like a guardian in the night, Charis watched over her brother diligently, not wanting to pander to the panicked images of his torn and bleeding body in the back of her mind. Without realizing it, she began to hum, first a lullaby then tunes she thought he would recognize. Castiel was at her back, watching as always, standing there protectively at her shoulder.

Suddenly, Dean gasped, sucking in a deep breath and opened his eyes. Lifting his head, he stared at Charis, his eyes expressive and painful before turning their attention on the angel. As he sat up, Castiel moved to the foot of the bed.

"I couldn't stop any of it," he said, his voice hoarse, "She still made the deal, she still died in the nursery, didn't she." Charis remained quiet; letting the two men talk about whatever Dean had gone through.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, you couldn't have stopped it," Castiel announced with a strange finality.

Dean stared at him incredulously, his eyes turning steely. Charis rested against the headboard, knowing that it wasn't Dean, her brother, before her, but Dean the Hunter. "What?" he said harshly, standing up.

"Destiny can't be changed, Dean, all roads lead to the same destination."

"Then why did you send me back?"

"For the truth, now you know everything we do," Castiel replied, his eyes darting over to Charis, "At least everything we know pertaining to your brother, your sister is another story for another time."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean demanded. Castiel turned slightly, nodding to the other bed, empty, un-slept in, and no sign of the other Winchester.

"Where's Sam?" He turned to Charis, his gaze questioning.

"He wasn't here when we woke up, I don't know where he is," she whispered, flinching as his gaze hardened.

"We know what Azazel did to your brother," Castiel said, drawing his attention back, "What we don't know is why, what his end game is. He went to great lengths to cover that up." Dean nodded slowly, taking in the influx of information.

"Where's Sam?"

"425 Waterman."

Dean moved to the door, grabbing his keys and jacket. "Stay here, Charis," he ordered, slipping his arms through the sleeves then sat down to put on his boots. She nodded and looked at Castiel, staring at the wall.

"Your brother is headed down a dangerous road, Dean, and we're not sure where it leads, so stop it," his gazed flickered finally to Dean once more. "Or we will."


	9. VERY IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE

**AUTHOR'S NOTE****:**

_**Hey guys.**_

_**I have some bad news…**_

_**So last night my laptop died…and I haven't backed it up for two months.**_

_**What does that mean?**_

_**That means I have lost a whole lot.**_

_**That means I have no new updates and probably won't for a while.**_

_**I'm on my mother's computer right now and I don't know when I'm gonna get my laptop fixed or when I'm gonna get my documents back.**_

_**They think that since it's a driver/hardware problem they can fix it and recover my stuff.**_

_**We'll see.**_

_**Mom and I have fixing it on the highest priority—we're trying to get it done by Tuesday, but I don't know.**_

_**For those of you that don't know, I am going to Pennsylvania bright and early on the 22**__**nd**__**, and won't be back until the 28**__**th**__**.**_

_**However we also just got a new place and will be moving in there when I get back and I won't have Internet access until a week after that…or longer depending on how severe this laptop problem is.**_

_***makes a not happy face***_

_**I just wanted to let you guys know that it could be a while before I get anything updated at all and I'm kind of really messed up over it.**_

_**I seriously HATE losing documents.**_

_**I apologize that you guys have to wait forever again.**_

_**I love you all for your support of me.**_

**Kyla aka Pyro**


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